


Crisis

by kikanawj



Series: Tim Drake (and the greater DCU) [3]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Attempted Murder, Creepy Ra's al Ghul, Death of a Parent, Death of a loved one, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Roast Canon at 350 and carve for juicy parts, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide, Suicide as a topic and arguably an attempt but not a successful one, Tim Drake Needs a Break, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Tim Drake-centric, Various Justice League and Titans Members, my canon now
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:21:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 53
Words: 79,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24368773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kikanawj/pseuds/kikanawj
Summary: Tim's in for a very rough patch. Several rough patches. It's gonna be some rough years.But at least in this version he's got support. Tim Drake/An_actual_support_networkMy canon now.
Relationships: Bart Allen & Tim Drake, Stephanie Brown & Tim Drake, Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Cassie Sandsmark, Tim Drake & Dick Grayson, Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent
Series: Tim Drake (and the greater DCU) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1759369
Comments: 488
Kudos: 845





	1. The Calm Before the Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Context: Post "Fathers and other four letter words" Tim has broken contact with his Dad and lives with Bruce full time now. Jack Drake left Gotham.  
> Tim and Kon are dating.

"Um. Bruce?"

"Hm?"

"Can Kon come over? And stay the night?"

Bruce looked up from his tablet. Tim was hovering in the office doorway. He was wearing his work out attire, his hands pale from chalking.

"Can he make it here discreetly?"

Tim nodded, "Yeah. He's pretty good about stealthing in and out of cities. Super-speeding around and stuff. He and Bart did a whole training thing about it."

Bruce set his tablet down. He waved Tim in and got up to join him in the chairs in front of the desk.

Tim sat down gingerly.

"I mean, I understand if you're not cool with it. It was really just a last minute thing. There's a special event going on in the online game we both play this weekend, and I just thought he might have a better time playing on our internet connection. And we'd be able to do better in team missions if we can coordinate while doing them. It's really not a big deal if we can't-"

"Tim." Bruce held up a hand and Tim cut off his rambling. "Conner can come over. And he's welcome to spend the night. You'll be responsible for cleaning up messes you two manage to accumulate. And you'll have to help Alfred set up a guest room."

Tim's face lit up. "Really?"

Bruce nodded, "The door remains open at all times."

Tim blushed, "Oh my god, Bruce. You don't have to-"

"I mean it."

"Okay. Okay. Open doors." Tim smirked, "Thanks."

Bruce ruffled Tim's hair and went back to his desk.

-';;'-

Conner Kent was a perfect house guest. He was polite, had good table manners, even offered to help with the dishes. 

Conner and Tim were practically attached at the hip. They played their video game and demolished the snacks Alfred had prepared. 

Bruce crossed paths with Conner as he was heading to the cave to prepare for patrol.

"Taking a break?" Bruce asked.

Conner smiled, "Tim's getting more snacks. Figured I should stretch my legs a bit. Are you off to the night job?"

Bruce nodded, "Don't let me keep you."

"Um, I actually wanted to-" Kon hesitated. "I wanted to talk to you. About Tim. About how you took him in, and its- I- I just wanted to say thank you. I know things are pretty settled now, but it was hard watching him adjust, and even before everything with his dad and-"

Kon took a breath and rubbed at his neck, "I just wanted to say thank you. For really being there, being here for him. We could only do so much on Titan's weekends. It was nice to hear he'd finally moved in here with you full time."

Kon looked back up the hallway towards Tim's room, "He's a lot happier now."

Bruce felt his heart ache, "I haven't done everything. Alfred's always been, well, Alfred. And Dick and Barbara have been over a lot to help him settle in. And don't go discounting those Titans weekends. You all have been amazing friends for him."

Bruce offered an easy smile, "Not to mention how you've been keeping him grounded."

"Still," Kon shrugged, "It's...Tim's Dad didn't deserve him. But now he's got you. If you trust my take on it, you're a pretty amazing father. So, thanks."

Bruce knew better than to bring Clark up. So instead he took the compliment with grace.

"You're always welcome here, Conner."

Kon gave him a look and it was hard to decipher. It was a lot of hurt under spots of gratitude and even some hope.

"Thanks. Although, I don't know if you could keep me from Alfred's cooking now that I've been hooked."

Bruce snorted a gentle laugh and continued to the cave. He spared a few thoughts while he was getting suited up about how to next broach the topic with Clark. _Maybe at their next JLA meeting?_

Unfortunately, it would end up being a moot point. 


	2. Packing Day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very loose interpretation of infinite crisis. Basically just the Kon dying to save the world part. The rest is free game.

Tim felt sick. Maybe he should have eaten something more than one bagel five hours ago. Maybe he shouldn’t have had his third cup of coffee before coming.

Maybes fell out of his head as he walked into Titans tower.

He took the elevator up to the communal floor that held most of the bed rooms. Tim took the cardboard under his arms and walked across to the one door no one had walked in since before.

Tim slipped inside and turned on the lights.

The room wasn’t messy. Not as messy as Tim’s was just across the hall. But it felt… lived in.

Tim sighed and set to work. Cardboard boxes began to slowly fill. Tim wrapped the few delicate items in bubble wrap. He got the bed stripped and the linens put away. The knick-knacks on the shelves went gently away and the books were set in boxes without much care to order.

Bart came by at some point. He was just suddenly there, as was how it usually went.

“Oh, hey, dude. I didn’t know you were doing this today.”

Tim shrugged as he sealed another box up and wrote the address on the top. “It wasn’t going to pack itself up.”

“Do you want some help?”

Tim unfolded another box and taped the bottom. “I’m still sorting what goes where. So…”

“Okay,” Bart sat on the stripped mattress. “You need anything?”

Tim shook his head. But then paused and sighed again. “I haven't really eaten today?”

“On it.” Bart zipped out of the room.

Tim took a second to look around. He had nearly cleared out the whole room. All that was left was the closet and a few drawers. He piled the jeans and under things and socks carefully away. He started to fold the t-shirts, one by one, but when it came time to place them inside the box he hesitated.

What would happen to them? Would they just get put up into storage? Would they be donated to a thrift store? Would Ma Kent use them to make something, a keepsake like a pillow cover or- or maybe even frame one?

Tim was fairly sure he had a few still. Floating around the laundry somewhere at the manor. There was probably one hanging in his room here at the tower. Should he also pack those up? He- he never really meant to steal them. Just borrow them when it was convenient. When he was tired and didn’t want to walk across the hall for a new shirt. When he was going home after a Titan’s weekend and wanted to still be able to smell Kon’s shampoo. When- when he wanted to watch Kon try to hide a blush.

Bart found him sitting on the bare mattress, clutching a black t-shirt in his hands, tears dripping down his face.

Bart set the tray of food he’d assembled down and grabbed Tim up in a hug.

“Sorry.”

Bart squeezed him, “Dude.”

“I’m being stupid-”

“ _Dude._ ”

Tim just shook his head and leaned into Bart. Cassie found them both there a bit later. She sighed heavily.

“Hey, guys. I didn’t know today was packing day.”

Tim shook his head, “It needed to be done.”

“You should’ve asked us for help.”

Tim swallowed hard and tapped lightly on Bart’s arms. He let him go and Tim stood. He grabbed the half folded t-shirts and shoved them into the box labeled for Kent Farm.

Cassie and Bart exchanged looks.

“You don’t want to keep those?” Cassie asked gently.

"I can just go buy a dozen of these.” Tim said, his voice rough, “I can go buy a print shop and make hundreds. They- they might mean a lot to Ma and Pa, and I really should have asked them what they wanted done with all this- I just came in here and started-"

Tim took a shaky breath and looked around the half packed room, "I'm packing him away. I'm putting everything left of him in boxes and sending them away."

Cassie went to him and took his hands in hers. "These things were his. Some of them he liked a lot, some just so happened to be what he ended up with. What he kept in his room here is not _everything left of him._ And I know, deep in my heart, Ma and Pa Kent are not the kind of people to begrudge you his shirts."

She squeezed his hands, "If you want them, take them. And if you change your mind, then deal with it then. But if you don't want to take them because it might inconvenience someone with your grieving, fuck, _Tim_. Just take the shirts."

Tim was going to just ship the boxes out to the Kent farm. But he hesitated. He imagined what it would be like. To get a knock on your door, be asked to sign for several boxes, and realize they were filled with the last possessions of your dead grandkid.

Tim called Bruce. 

"Hey, Tim. What is it?"

"I'm not allowed to drive at night with my license and I don't even know if I'm allowed to cross state lines, but I want to deliver Kon's stuff to the farm in person. It's just- I can't just mail them, Bruce. It's too- too-"

"Too impersonal?" Bruce guesses.

"Yeah. That." Tim takes a deep breath, "I know you're busy. Probably too busy to go harrying off on a sudden road trip. And Alfred is too. Fuck, this was a bad idea-"

"Tim," Bruce interrupted, "I can't leave today, but I should be able to clear my appointments for a few days starting tomorrow."

Tim's shoulders felt lighter for the first time in weeks.

"...really?"

"Really."

  
  
  
  


Martha and Jonathan Kent were waiting for them on their porch. Bruce pulled the van in along the gravel drive. Tim stepped out and around the vehicle. It was the first time he'd seen either of them since Kon died.

Martha pulled him into a hug. Tim took a second to relax into it. Martha had tears in her eyes.

They got the boxes unpacked, Bruce did most of the actual lifting. Martha stole Tim away into the kitchen and offered him some pie.

"Would you like the last of this blueberry ice cream, dear?" Martha asked him, "I just can't bring myself to finish it. And it's just going to go to waste."

Tim knew blueberry was Kon's favorite. Knew exactly why Ma Kent couldn't just throw out the nearly empty container.

He accepted it with a nod, his voice caught in his throat. He ate the ice cream and listened as Jonathan directed Bruce up to the attic. The old house creaked around them, the kitchen window was open and birds could be heard chirping outside.

"I kept his shirts." Tim spoke like he was confessing.

Martha just nodded, "That's good. He always liked when you would wear his shirt. I remember the time you spent the night back in June, and you were wearing his shirt the next morning. He could never hide a blush, that boy."

Tim laughed and it sounded like a sob. He sniffed as his nose threatened to run. His damn eyes were watering.

"Thank you for bringing us his things, dear. I hadn't even thought about his room up at the tower. We haven't- we haven't gotten to cleaning the room upstairs."

"I could-"

"No, dear, that's alright. I know I'll get to it when I can. Unless there's something you'd want from it."

Tim shook his head, "I don't want to just rummage through his things-"

"Tim. Dear. It's okay to want to keep what you can close. I've been keeping his old jacket on my nightstand. It- it helps. Just a little."

Tim couldn't think of what to say to that. He finished the ice cream, it was sweet and left him feeling hallow. Bruce came down after getting the boxes settled. He and Ma and Pa chatted around him, speaking of the weather, their crops, nothing important. Tim let the chatter wash over him as he watched the birds outside the kitchen window. They sang to each other, hopped around, and eventually flew away.

Bruce put his arm around him, held him close. Didn't comment on the wetness of Tim's eyes. The ice cream sat heavy in his gut.


	3. That therapy I keep mentioning

The days and weeks after Kon’s death were both the most real and surreal days of Tim’s life. He was managing the remnants of the team and helping the League slough through miles of red tape surrounding the inter-dimensional disaster. He was constantly on the verge of breaking down, crying at the drop of a hat, having multiple nightmares every time he tried to sleep, and sometimes just standing still for hours as his brain refused to process properly.

It was hard to get back into his routine. One of the most jarring was when he had to be the one to tell someone what had happened. All of the Bats, the Titans, the Justice League all knew. He didn't have to put it into words.

Until his next appointment with his therapist. His civilian identity therapist.

"Hey, Tim." Dr Howard, _Call-me-Clint_ , greeted him. "It's good to see you. I know we had to reschedule, but I'm happy we've made it work."

"Yeah. Lots of, uh, stuff going crazy all over the place."

"Were you following the news about it?"

Tim swallowed roughly, "Hard not to."

"Were you or your family involved in any of it? I know some parts of Gotham received some battle damage."

"It's-" Tim considered not telling him about it. Just, not mentioning it. He could lie and misdirect his way through the entire session. He'd done it before. He could just... _ not _ tell him about Kon. 

"My-"

Tim felt the words sticking in his throat.

"Tim?"

"My boyfriend died."

There was a silence. Clint looked shocked and then deeply sympathetic.  "That's… I am so sorry, Tim. That is such an awful thing to happen." Clint took a second to look at his notepad, "Would you like to use our time to talk about it?"

Tim felt like a weight shifted in his chest. 

"What else would I talk about?" Tim huffed a small laugh. It sounded just shy of hysterical in his own ears. "Oh yeah, let me just go on about how I've been handling my homework load this month. Or tell you how much I've been feeling anxious about my upcoming haircut.  _ Of course I want to talk about my dead boyfriend. _ My. Boyfriend. Died."

"I didn't ask that to downplay the tragedy you've been dealing with. I asked for clarification. I am not going to pressure you to talk about it. If you want to, and feel a need to, please talk about it. I'm here to listen."

Tim took a breath.

"He died protecting someone,"  _ Everyone _ , "I wasn't there. When it happened."

Clint nodded. "When was this?"

"17 days ago." Tim recounted. It didn't feel real that so much time had already passed. That the world had kept spinning on so seamlessly. "We already had a funeral for him."

"Were you able to attend the funeral?"

Tim nodded. He'd been at the ceremony at Titan's Tower. He'd watched the statue go up. But he hadn't been at the wake at Kent farm. 

"He was a hero. Not just- not just in the end. He was always saving people. He saved me. He was-" Tim caught himself, "He always  _ seemed _ so invincible. And now he's just gone."

Clint nodded as he wrote on his notepad.

"Seventeen days is not a very long time. It's okay to feel like this is all still new and jarring."

"It didn't feel like this when my mother died." Tim clenched his fists, white knuckled. He'd been avoiding _that_ thought for a while now.

Clint tilted his head a bit, "What feels different?"

Tim clenched his jaw. He sat with the question, trying to parse out his thoughts into some sort of coherence.

"I felt numb back then. Like….distanced? Like I was reading about it happening in a news story rather than living it. But now-"

Tim rubbed at his eye to keep a tear from falling. "Now it feels like my chest is just- weighed down. Like breathing takes more energy than it should. I can't sleep without nightmares. I can't get through a task without thinking about him. I feel like I've cried more in the past 3 weeks than I have in the past 3  _ years _ ."

Clint nodded, “We’ve spoken a little about your mother before. You two didn’t seem very close. Especially in comparison to your boyfriend. That alone might account for the difference in reaction. But it might also have to do with your living situation. You’ve spoken about how much more supported you’ve felt in your new house. How it has been easier to be ‘shields down’ at home. You might be feeling your grief more intensely because you’re in a place you feel safe expressing your feelings.”

Tim felt the truth in the assessment. Objectively he could see the reasoning behind it.

“Is it bad that I wish I was more disconnected from it?”

Clint set his notepad down. “You would like to have more distance from your grief?”

Tim clenched his jaw, “It hurts. It’s-  _ everything  _ is harder now. And it’s not even predictable. I’ll be doing math homework and get blindsided by just this- overwhelming sadness. But then I’ll be looking at a picture of the two of us and no tears at all. Just numbness. And then the next day it changes again.”

“Grief isn’t a linear process.”

“I know that,” Tim scoffed. He’d watched Bruce enough to know that. Dick too. “But I can’t just lose hours to it like this. I need to be able to- to do my homework and chores and extracurriculars. People are relying on me.”

“We can go over some mood stabilizing techniques. Brush up on Mindful Meditation. To help you get through the times where you need to focus on your tasks.”

“Yeah. I think that would help.”

Clint gave him a small smile, “These are just things to help you when your grief is interfering in a necessary task. They won’t stop your grief entirely. And I want to emphasize that trying to compartmentalize your grief won’t benefit you in the long run. A terrible thing happened. It’s changed your life. It’s painful, but ignoring it will only cause you more stress and turmoil.”

Tim nodded. “I understand.” He did. Objectively.

Subjectively, though....

Clint took a deep breath and let it out, “Okay. Let’s start with grounding.”

  
-';;'-

“Good session?” Dick asked as he climbed into the passenger seat.

“Productive.” Tim answered. He buckled in and Dick started them back to the manor.

“Do you want to go out for something? Soft serve?”

Tim watched the skyline out of the window. It was an overcast day, threatening rain.

“Nah. I’m not very hungry.”

“You sure?” Dick asked gently.

“I’m sure. Let’s just get home.”

“Okay,” Dick reached over and squeezed his shoulder.


	4. A (Bad) Night in Gotham

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: suicide. Subject passively puts himself in danger he thinks is lethal.
> 
> Context: Jason Todd/Red Hood is not currently getting along with any Bat family member. He is actively running his criminal enterprises out of crime alley.

He ran into Red Hood on patrol. It shouldn’t have happened. He was nowhere near crime alley or the narrows. Bruce didn’t let him patrol there anymore, not alone at least.

But still, there he was. Red Hood. Chasing down the informant Tim had been targeting. His only lead on a new drug supplier.

A gunshot rang out and the dealer fell, clutching his leg. Tim moved.

Hood twisted at the last moment, dodging Tim’s kick. Tim rolled with his momentum and came up swinging his bo staff. Hood caught it with an arm guard, but grunted with the effort.

“Hey, Replacement. Shitty night to be out in it. You looking for another beat down?”

“Stopping a murder, actually.” Tim circled to get a bit of distance, “What are you doing so far into uptown? Sightseeing?”

“Bird hunting, it turns out.” Jason leveled his pistol, “Unless you feel like fucking off and leaving me to my conversation.”

“Not much talking from what I saw.”

Jason tilted his head, “Why do you think I shot him? Hey, Dumbass. You gonna answer my questions now?”

The man on the ground whimpered.

“See? Fuck off.”

Tim gave Hood an unimpressed look, “And you’re totally not going to kill him?”

“Not if he squeals.” Hood shrugged, “Probably.”

Tim sighed, “I was also tailing him for information. How about you let me give it a go first?”

“What, good replacement, bad Hood?” Hood chuckled, “Go ahead. Do my dirty work for me. No skin off my nose.”

What followed was the most complete confession and divulgence of information he’d ever gotten from a suspect. Tim wrapped the man’s leg and tied him to the light post. He didn’t leave him until the approaching police cruiser turned onto the block.

Red Hood was waiting on the rooftop. 

“Does Daddy Bats know you can interrogate like that? Doesn’t seem his speed.”

Tim took notice of Hood’s posture. He looked more or less relaxed. Both his guns were holstered. 

“Well normally I’d have to threaten a bit more. You covered that for me.”

Hood laughed, “Asshole. Using me to soften him up. And here I’d thought you’d be off your game.”

Tim tensed. He took stock of the exits again. He clicked his distress beacon. Bruce would be 5 minutes out at max.

“I wasn’t exactly looking to run into you.”

“So you did take something away from our meet and greets.” Hood laughed again, “Was surprised to see you out at all, Replacement. But, hey, one sidekick dying didn’t stop everyone else, why would more?”

Tim clenched his fists and took a wider stance.

“Aw, did I hit a nerve? Did you play with him on Titan’s weekends? Saw that ugly statue on the news." Hood chuckled. "And I thought my uniform in the cave was tacky.”

“Shut up.”

Hood crowed a laugh. “Ah, come on, Replacement. You don’t like talking about the job? Workplace hazard right?”

“He saved your goddamn life along with everyone else on the planet.” Tim snapped. 

“Should I send a thank you card? Where should I address it? Upstairs?” Hood gestured to the sky and then to the ground, “Downstairs? Do clones even have souls?”

Tim lunged. He swung wildly, erratically. Hood dodged every blow, knocking him aside easily. Tim swept round to trip him, but Hood side stepped. His fist collided with Tim’s face.

“Or maybe you want to join him?” Hood caught him in another blow, knocking the wind out of Tim’s chest.

Hood kicked him and Tim went rolling across the roof. He scrambled to his feet, bo staff held out.

"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about." Tim snarled.

Hood looked behind himself and then around the roof. "I don't see anyone else here who's died for the cause."

"You think that makes you special?" Tim spat as blood dripped from his nose. "Every night we go out could be our last. We've all had a split second mean the difference between life and death. You're not some untouchable authority on it 'cause you got fucked by the timing."

Red Hood gave a long whistle and a slow clap, "I'll give it to you, kid. The suicidal act is real convincing." Hood unholstered a pistol, "Wanna reunite with your boy-toy tonight?"

Tim felt his anger leave him all at once. He watched Hood level the barrel of his gun at him and nearly bowled himself over by the intensity of emotion that came rushing to fill the void. Tim felt _hope_ surge through him, and it scared him.

_What was he doing? Why wasn't he running, gaining distance, diving for cover, anything?!_

Tim stood still as Hood raised his gun and switched the safety off.

_Tim should be moving. Throwing something at Jason to spoil his aim. Doing anything but just standing there._

Tim couldn't feel his hands, his feet. His breathing was a far away sound. He watched Hood's finger move to the trigger, and that damn hope surged through him again.

The gun went off, and Tim felt something impact his right shoulder. It stung. Really really bad. His body naturally curled inward in response, but it wasn't fatal. The round hadn't even pierced his kevlar. Tim looked at the impact site and saw green powder staining his suit. 

"What. The. Fuck, Replacement?"

Tim looked back up at Hood and saw that he was shaking. His firing arm was shaking. Hood's whole posture was unsteady, uncontrolled. Tim had never seen him so off guard.

Tim kept staring at Hood. Hood had just shot him. Not with a lethal round, it seemed, but he hadn't known that. Tim's thoughts felt like they were sliding through syrup. 

"Don't just stare at me you fucking head case- what the fuck was that?!" Hood shouted at him.

Tim opened his mouth to reply. Surely there was a good explanation for what he'd just done (hadn't done?): for how disjointed his thoughts were. But when he took a deep breath in, the powder from the shot- ah, the familiar taste of pepper spray- got into his mouth. He started hacking and coughing, his mouth and lungs instantly on fire.

"Jesus Fucking Christ, don't fucking breathe it in, you absolute fucking dumbass-" 

Hood stalked over to Tim and grabbed him by the front of his uniform. Hood grabbed something from his belt and dumped it on the powder and then onto Tim's face. Tim coughed more and spat to clear his mouth. It took the edge off the powder. His breathing came and went easier.

"What the fuck. What the fuck was that? Some fucking ass-pull bluff? Did you think Bats was gonna come rushing in to save you?"

Tim's mind grabbed onto the excuse frantically, "I, I sent out my beacon. When I got to the roof. I was sure he'd be here."

"No you fucking didn't," Hood shoved Tim away and stood up. His hands were balled into fists, "He's on the other side of the city tonight. He'd still be at least 30 seconds out. And that's if I wasn't jamming your signal, which I _fucking_ am. Don't fucking lie to me- what the fuck was that really?"

Tim didn't move from where he'd been shoved. The feeling was coming back into his hands and feet, but it was all pins and needles. He felt incredibly light headed.

"I thought you were going to kill me." Tim heard himself say. His voice was dry, cracking.

"So you just stood there?!"

Tim nodded, words failing him. His shoulder was really hurting now. And his face- his nose was still dripping blood.

"What," Jason asked, his voice now quiet, "The fuck, replacement?"

Tim tried to think of something to say. Something other than the numbing truth that was filling his chest.

"I-" Tim's voice cracked. "I wanted to die."

"Oh, _jesus,_ " Hood clicked a thing on his belt, "Okay. Jammer is switched off. Bat-ass will be here in a flash. Fuck you, fuck this whole night."

Hood marched to the roof's edge and pulled out his grapple line.

"Don't throw yourself over the edge before he gets here." Jason threw over his shoulder.

Tim watched him swing off to the next building and continue around the block. The distant sounds of cars down on the roads wafted up around him. His nose stung from the hits and the remaining pepper powder. Tim's comm crackled to life.

"I'm three minutes out. Robin, status."

Tim blinked. He couldn't see Hood anymore.

"Robin. Report your status."

Tim sank down onto the rooftop, the gravel digging into his legs. He stopped watching the skyline for Hood. He looked down at the powder on his shoulder. It was mostly washed away.

" _Robin. Respond._ "

"I'm not okay," Tim whispered. He grabbed at his shoulder, gloved fingers smearing the powder, "B, I'm really not okay."

"I'm coming, Robin. Hold on."

Tim gripped his shoulder and hissed from the pain of it. ' _Don't throw yourself over the edge before he gets here.'_ Tim grit his teeth. 

He sat there and he waited. Batman was coming.

He just had to hold on.


	5. Eggplants, Bruises, and Other Purple Things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: More talk of suicide and the fallout of an attempt
> 
> Context: Tim never quit being Robin when his dad found out. So Steph never took up the mantle. So the whole 'war games' thing from the comics never happened, so Steph never 'died'. Steph is currently Spoiler with varying levels of support from the Bats.

“Spoiler, report to the Cave.”

Steph sighed loudly and tapped her comm, “I didn’t even break his arm!”

“.....That is not relevant right now.” Bruce’s voice was tense, “Robin is leaning towards non-verbal. I need your help at the Cave.”

“Oh shit. Yeah, on my way.” Steph double checked the restraints on her perp, and then booked it down the alley. She sent a text over the police tip-line from her burner phone, noting the guy’s location, before jumping on her motorcycle and peeling out. 

Whatever was going on with Tim, she needed to thank him for the bike again. It was so, so much better than hoofing it around town all night. He’d even made its stealth mode  _ purple _ . She needed to thank him again.

Steph pulled into the east ridge secret entrance to the Cave. The sound of the cycle’s engines bounced around in the cavern, startling what bats were still around. Steph parked in the vehicle bay and hurried to the Cave proper. Alfred was manning the computer, but stood as she entered.

“Miss Stephanie,” He greeted. “Master Tim is upstairs in his room, Master Bruce is with him.”

“Right,” Steph hurried to the lockers and quickly changed into the spare civies Alfred kept there for her. She ran up the stairs and quickly made her way through the dark manor towards Tim’s room.

She heard Bruce talking as she approached.

“-know that I’m here. I’m not going out again tonight.”

Steph knocked on the door frame. Tim was sitting up on his bed, Bruce was half on the bed next to him. Tim had his shirt off, a wicked bruise was forming on his shoulder, and another not as bad looking one on his stomach. His nose looked swollen and one of his eyes looked to be on the way to a real shiner.

Bruce and Tim both looked up at her. She offered a smile.

“Hey, you look like you’ve had a rough night.” Steph stepped into the room. Tim’s gaze ducked down. Bruce’s jaw clenched.

“Thank you for coming,” Bruce told her.

Steph shrugged, “What happened? No, wait-”

Steph walked around and crawled onto the bed behind Tim. Seriously, his bed was ridiculously big. You could fit three of her on it and still have room for Bruce and Tim. She sat up behind Tim, leaning on his pillows and offering her hand to him. Tim blinked at it for a bit but eventually took it.

“Okay. What happened?”

Tim’s jaw went rigid and his expression turned from worn-out to genuinely wrecked. He shook his head and gripped Steph’s hand tight. Steph looked at Bruce. He gave Steph a worried look.

“Oracle said his signal was jammed for a period tonight, when he was in uptown. When his comms came back online his beacon was also activated.” Bruce recited with a very controlled tone. “I got to him and he insisted we take the batmobile back instead of swinging. I haven’t been able to….understand much more than that.”

Tim squeezed Steph’s hand and sniffed. He grimaced and raised his other hand towards his nose, stopping short of actually touching it.

“Hey, birdbrain,” Steph spoke softly, “Have you had any pain meds for that?”

Tim shook his head.

“He’s been refusing them.” Bruce said, his voice still that very controlled neutral tone.

“ _ Tim _ ,” Steph sat upright and moved so that she was holding his gaze, “You need to take pain meds. We’ve talked about this. You’ve lectured _ me _ about this. Suffering through the pain doesn’t help anyone. It’s okay to be kind to yourself.”

She saw him recognize the line. He was constantly reminding her of that one. Something he’d picked up from therapy.

“I don’t-” Tim coughed and cleared his throat, “I don’t want to get drowsy. I’m not- not making great choices.”

“Okay,” Steph felt her heart speed up at the admission. How many of Tim’s injuries were self inflicted? Or the result of not keeping himself safe? “How about some of the low level stuff? Just to take the edge off?”

Tim pursed his lips, but nodded. Bruce got up and went to the bathroom across the hall. He came back with over the counter stuff and a cup of water. Tim took them without hesitation.

“Thank you,” Steph said gently.

Tim gave her a half-hearted smile. “Bad night.”

“Fucking looks like it,” Steph tried to return a smile, “You want to talk about those less than great choices? Or leave it ‘til morning?”

Tim grimaced, “I should-” Tim cleared his throat again and coughed, “Ow.”

“Would writing or typing it be easier for you?” Bruce offered.

Tim nodded and pointed to his phone on its charger. Bruce handed it to him. Tim opened an app and started typing. He handed the phone to Bruce.

Steph watched Bruce speed through the text. The very careful control Bruce kept over his physical reactions started to slip. His hand was holding the phone white knuckled, his jawline looked clenched so hard he might crack a tooth, his eyes were narrowed and maybe even a little misty.

Steph pointed to the phone and Tim nodded. She took it from Bruce gently. Bruce moved more onto the bed, closer to Tim. His face was pinched, trying very hard to keep himself in check.

Steph read the block of text.

_ ran into hood. stopped him from killing a lead. he hung around as i interrogated. and after. I tried to signal my beacon, but he was jamming the area. he said a bunch of shit about kon. i fought him. i shouldnt have. it was so stupid. he drew one of his guns and i didnt dodge. felt like dissociating. it was a non lethal pepper round. but i didnt know that. i thought it was live rounds and i didnt dodge.  _

“Tim,” Steph exhaled. 

She looked up from the phone. Bruce was loosely holding Tim in an embrace, carefully not jarring his shoulder or nose. Tim had one hand gripping Bruce’s shirt. His face was very blank.

Steph tried to remember the training Bruce had allowed her to sit in on. Specifically the suicide prevention stuff. But this wasn’t talking a person down from a ledge, this wasn’t keeping a person alive until the EMTs could get to the scene. This was the time after. Tim was alive. He wasn’t in immediate danger. This wasn’t the part a vigilante usually dealt with.

Steph squeezed Tim’s hand. She knew she had tears gathering in her eyes. Tim pulled at her hand and Steph moved in. She wrapped her arms around Tim and Bruce’s arms. She laid her head on Tim’s good shoulder. 

“I love you, Tim.” She sniffed, “I love you. You can’t leave.”

“We’re here for you, Tim,” Bruce said in his low cadence, “Thank you for telling us.”

Tim’s arms shook. He let go of Bruce’s shirt and took the phone out of Stephanie’s hand. He typed for a bit and then held it out for them both to read.

_ i cant be robin now _

Bruce made a noise like he’d been punched. He squeezed Tim in the embrace.

“Not for a while,” Bruce confirmed. “But this isn’t forever. What you’re going through is serious. You’re so important to me, Tim. I can’t stand the idea of anything happening to you. But I am  _ not _ taking Robin away from you.”

Tim had tears running down his face.

“We’ll work on this. With your therapist. With one that we can tell everything to,” Bruce assured him, “This is serious and we need to take it seriously. But it’s not- I’m not going to punish you for this. None of what we’ll do to help you through this is a punishment. You’re right, going out in active duty is a risk right now. But you’re still Robin, even without patrol.”

Tim was shaking his head, tears leaking down his face. Bruce put his hand under his chin and tipped his head up to face him.

“You helped me in my darkest time,” Bruce’s voice was rough with emotion, “You saved me from my darkest thoughts and pulled me out of my endless spiral. Now it’s time for me to help you. We’re partners. I’ve got your back, Robin.”

Tim was sobbing now, leaning hard against Steph’s hold on him. She held on tight. 

“We’ve got you, Tim,” Steph cried, “I’m not going anywhere.”


	6. Cassandra, Oracles, and the Future

A lot had changed in the following months. Tim started regularly seeing Dinah Lance in a therapist capacity. He started taking antidepressants, a low dose and as a trial run, but he understood it took a while to find the right fit. He got lucky and the first ones they tried seemed to help stabilize his moods.

Things on patrol changed as well. Tim was down maning the computers most nights. His call sign remained Robin, but Oracle was taking to calling him 'Augur', especially when he beat her to a lead. Steph stepped up to partner with Bruce on more patrols. It was...very tense to watch the two of them try to work in such close proximity. Steph’s heavy reliance on improvisation clashed with Bruce’s plans upon plans. It was almost a godsend when Cassandra came crashing into their lives.

She was a force. Very hurt, very scared, and so very much in need of love. She took to Bruce like a fish to water. Everyone else was harder. Harder for her to read, to understand in some regard. Bruce was an open book to her. But Tim and Barb and Steph and Alfred and Dick all managed to worm their way into her trust. Her heart.

She became Black Bat. Tim had a sister. They bonded over the hurt; over the small joys that they each clung to. Tim learned sign language with her. He helped her learn to read, to work the computers enough for patrol, and then a little more. She loved music and Tim helped her establish an enormous digital library. 

Batman had a new partner for patrol. It stung. Tim was still struggling with self harm and self neglect. Alfred helped him keep track of when he'd avoid food and sleep. And Tim was managing to mitigate his urges. Using coping mechanisms including less harmful outlets. He would hold ice cubes, take ice cold showers. He was getting better at realizing urges in the moment and vocalizing them sooner and sooner.

He was restless. Not going on patrol and not going to Titan’s Tower on weekends was wearing down on him. Cassie and Bart had visited. Bart more often due to the fact that he could just pop over almost anytime. Alfred had increased the amount of readily available food in the manor to accommodate him.

But it had been months. Tim had techniques under his belt. He had been improving, a little up and down, but overall really improving. So for the first time in months, he was going to spend the weekend at Titan’s Tower. He wasn’t going out into the field. It was more or less a sleepover. 

But it came with conditions.

“Bruce.”

“Tim.”

“This is ridiculous.”

“I don’t agree.”

“Of course you don’t,” Tim sighed and dragged a hand over his face. The offending monitor watch sat on the counter between them. “This is a huge privacy violation. Not to mention safety. What if someone hacks into the system?”

“It’s running on a closed internal recording loop that only sends out a signal if the readings are outside of the normal parameters.”

“And you can’t remotely turn it on?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Tim groaned, “Because you can! Bruce. I already keep my phone on me at all times. I already carry my back up comm on me. This is ridiculous!”

“Neither your phone nor your comm can relay vitals if you are incapacitated.”

“This is essentially you chipping me, Bruce.”

“It is not. I am offering this as a condition of you leaving Gotham unaccompanied.” Bruce snapped, “If you don’t want to wear the bracelet, you don’t have to. But then I am canceling your trip to San Francisco.”

“I’m not going to be unaccompanied! Cassie and Bart will be there the whole time!”

“Unless there is an emergency that they need to attend to.” Bruce snapped, “Tim, please. This is-”

“This is you controlling me and monitoring every move I make. You can’t stop my depression by breathing down my neck!”

“I know that!”

Bruce was on his feet. He stepped around the table and came up to where Tim was standing defiantly next to the kitchen counter. He already had his overnight bag packed and slung over his shoulder.

“You are right,” Bruce admitted, “I am worried about you. I’m worried about you being so far away from me. I am worried about your depression and suicidal urges spiking while you are so far away from me. I want you to be able to go see your friends and have your weekends back. And yes, I admit that my own issues about this are making me want to control all of the variables that I can.”

Bruce took a deep breath and let it out slowly, “I promise I won't turn the monitor on remotely for anything short of an alien invasion. If my worry gets too much for me while you are away I will contact you through your phone.”

“So will you, to help me and my concerns, please wear the monitor watch?”

Tim’s posture was still defiant, but the corners of his eyes were softening. He looked at the watch and then back at Bruce, and then back at the watch.

“I want it set up so that my phone gets an alert whenever it broadcasts.”

“We can do that.” Bruce felt a knot in his chest loosen, “Thank you.”

Tim still looked upset, but he nodded. 

  
  



	7. Titans Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: Depression symptoms and recovery

"Do you think destiny actually exists?"

"You're hitting the Cheetos pretty hard there, Bart."

"No, shut up, these are mine," Bart swatted Tim's hands away, "Answer the question."

"As a general  _ things work out and sometimes in very oddly specific ways _ sort of destiny? Sure. As a - everything is predetermined and set in stone - kinda way? No." Tim stole a cheeto, "I mean, aren't you, Mr Actual-Time-Traveler, kind of proof of that? You've already altered your recorded past."

"Yeah but like, Cassie and Wonder Woman are like actual proof that gods exist. So there are higher powers that could be pulling strings."

"That's fair," Tim shrugged, "Maybe it's a bit of both? Maybe it's neither. Why? What's got you thinking the big questions?"

Bart shrugged, "Just going over the philosophy book section from the San Fran Library. It's been floating around in my head for a bit. Would you consider me a paradox? Like, I'm alive and aging decades before I'll be born."

"You are a nightmare to categorize." Tim opened a bag of Doritos and dodged Bart's grabby hands, "Take it from someone who had to update your team file."

"Does all the time I spend in, like, super fast mode add on to my age? Is it relative to me or to the world I'm living in?"

"What did you do to him?" Cassie asked as she came back into the rec room. She had two trays loaded down with snacks.

"I didn't do anything. He's stuck on philosophy."

"Am I technically dead, because I haven't yet been born?"

"Oh my god, Bart. Barty. I just want to get back to our tournament." Cassie reached for her controller. "I'm finally in the lead and I will not stand for abstract concepts as distractions."

"You're  _ barely _ in the lead." Tim pointed out, "It's still anyone's game."

"Says last place."

"Unpause the game. You're going down."

Bart ended up taking first place overall, but they all managed to score higher than 250 in their Wii bowling tournament. They went on the rematch in tennis, jump rope, boxing, and free throws.Tim narrowly managed to grab the overall victory.

Beast Boy came through at some point, looking for a "caterpillar the size of a dog. But if you haven't seen him, they don't exist and we never had this conversation."

But aside from that, the three of them had the tower to themselves for the night.

"Okay, so spill." Bart shoved himself onto the couch next to Tim as Cassie put the controllers away.

"Spill what?"

"The plan, duh." Bart huffed, "Did you bring your suit with you, or are you going to use one here? Do you even have one here?"

Tim felt a knot form in the pit of his stomach. But that might have also been all the junk food.

"I didn't bring a suit, Bart. I promised Batman I wouldn't go out on patrol."

Bart pouted, "Really?"

"Really." Tim looked over to Cassie for support and saw the incredulous look on her face. "C'mon, guys. I'm serious."

"Well, why didn't you bring a suit?" Cassie asked, "I thought that was why we were meeting here instead of the manor for game night."

"Yeah," Bart nodded so fast his head blurred.

"I wanted to do game night here because I missed the Tower. I missed hanging with you guys at the Tower."

Bart and Cassie exchanged a look.

"And you don't miss patrol?"

Tim felt the words slice through him.

"Of course I miss patrol!" Tim was on his feet, pacing as the words bubbled up, "Of course I miss being out there, really  _ being _ Robin. I miss being here with you guys, being out there with you guys. I miss it like it's a limb that got chopped off."

"Then why aren't you?" Bart asked quickly, "You've been doing so much better. We've seen it. You've said it yourself."

"It's not that simple." The words felt bitter on his tongue. It sounded like one of Bruce's many platitudes. 

"Why not?" Cassie asked. "We trust you. We want you back. We want you to be happy and doing what you love. Do  _ you  _ trust yourself?"

Tim clenched his hands into fists. He  _ hated _ not being out on patrol. He'd been stuck in the cave doing nothing but training and running computers and comms. It felt too much like before he was Robin. Back when Bruce was still trying to scare him out of the job with ever moving hurdles and goal posts.

It felt like he was never going to be allowed back out. 

But the question remained.  _ Did _ he trust himself?

Tim looked down at the monitor watch on his wrist. Bruce didn't trust him out yet. That much was painfully clear.

"I don't-" Tim shut his eyes, "I don't know."

Bart went over to him and hugged him. “I don’t want to make you do anything you aren’t ready for, okay? It just feels like- like you don’t have an actual plan. Which is super weird considering it's you.”

Cassie nodded, “What would you being ready to go back out actually look like?”

Tim felt the words wash over him, felt Bart’s arms around him. What would it look like? What would be enough? Was it even  _ possible _ to be okay enough again?

“I don’t know.”

Bart squeezed him, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Tim felt an immediate gut-feeling to say no. To say he could handle it. He’d talk to his therapist about it, talk to Bruce about it. But, but they were his friends. His friends who also went out and fought crime. His friends who cared about him. 

If things were reversed, he’d want them to talk about it with him.

“Sure. Yeah.”

“Woo! I’ll get the planning board!” Bart zipped out of the room. The dry erase board the Titan’s used in their training room came rocketing into the rec room. Tim had a marker shoved into his hands. Cassie suddenly had one in hers as well.

Bart was in front of the board, marker held at the ready. “Okay, brainstorming.”

Tim felt a smile come to his lips. Bart usually hated that board. Tim remembered a time when he threatened to throw it off the top of the tower.

Cassie spoke up, “I think we should have two columns. One for things you want to stop doing or have control over before going back out, and one for things that might never be completely under control.”

Bart wrote the two column titles out.

Tim sighed, “Okay. Well first column stuff. Acting on self harm impulses. Big one there. Uh, dissociation? That would be a nightmare if it happened while out in the field.”

Bart wrote them down. He also added ‘forgetting to put on pants’ and ‘stealing Bart’s food.’

Cassie laughed, “How about going non-verbal? You said that happened a bit last time.”

Tim shook his head, “With Cass now being Black Bat we’ve got so many non-verbal ways to communicate. So it’s not an issue while in Gotham. But what if it happens with you guys?”

Bart wrote ‘non-verbal’ in the second column, “I know american sign language.”

“I could learn,” Cassie offered. “And I’m sure we could bring the whole team up to speed on some patrol specific signs.”

Tim felt his chest swell with warmth. “Yeah. That could work.”

“Okay, what else?” Bart asked as he added ‘being a scary know-it-all’ to the second column.

Tim mentally ran through his symptom list, “Low self esteem is just something I’ve had my whole life. So, second column. Trouble sleeping might be between the columns? Like when it gets really bad, I shouldn’t go out. But it varies. Fatigue would be dangerous out on patrol, but again it varies. So it would be a day to day evaluation there. A’s helping me keep track of over and under eating, so that one’s pretty well handled. And my moods have been... not instantly better, but it’s easier to navigate them with my meds. And the meditation techniques B’s been showing me.”

Cassie looked at the board, “It looks to me like you really only have the two big things in the first column holding you back.”

Tim looked at the board. It felt….good. To have it all laid out like that. To see all of the areas he’d been getting better in. Even the first column. He’d made progress on all of it.

“Yeah.”


	8. Two Steps Forward

Tim had gone over his plan with Dinah. He’d gone over it again with Bart and Cassie. He’d run through it in his head so many times he could repeat it in his sleep. But when it came time to actually talk about it with Bruce, he hesitated.

He didn’t want Bruce to disagree. He didn’t want Bruce to shut him down, or come up with a hundred ways everything could go wrong. He wanted Bruce to hear his plan, and support it. He wanted Bruce to believe he could do it.

“B?” Tim approached him after a quiet night of patrol. Well, quiet for Gotham. There hadn’t been any deaths and none of the rogues had made an appearance, so it had been comparatively silent.

“Yes, Tim?” Bruce had already changed into sweats after a post-patrol shower. He was in cool-down mode, doing gentle stretches on the sparring matts. Just as Tim had hoped.

“I want to talk to you about an action plan. I’ve run it by Dinah, and now I want to run it by you.”

Bruce nodded, “Okay.”

“Okay,” Tim parroted, “So. We’ve been reviewing all my different symptoms and what I’ve managed to get very under control with routines and coping mechanisms and meditation. And we’ve worked out a rubric of sorts. So that I can go through it and basically assess how well I’ve been doing on a weekly and daily basis.”

Bruce nodded again. Tim took a deep breath.

“And we’ve come up with a bench mark that could determine when I’m able to go back out on patrol.”

Bruce faltered in his cold-down routine. He paused, half way through a stretch.

“Tim-”

“B, you haven’t even looked at it yet.” Tim hurriedly jumped in, “You can’t shoot it down if you haven’t even looked at it.”

“I’m not shooting it down.” Bruce uncurled from his stretch and stepped off the matts. “Do you have it for me to look at?”

Tim gestured to the bat computer. He felt so nervous he might have made himself nauseous. Bruce went to the monitor and clicked on the new file Tim had pulled up. Tim watched his face as he read through the document. Bruce’s expression didn’t give anything away. 

Finally, Bruce spoke, “This is very thorough. But it only covers your health leading up to patrol.”

Tim narrowed his eyes, “Um, yeah.”

Bruce turned to him, “What happens if you start having impulses or get triggered during patrol?”

Tim blinked, “Well, it would go into the next night’s rubric. So if something happens, I take the time outlined to recover before going out again.”

Bruce still didn’t look convinced. “Tim, I don’t think-”

“B.  _ Please. _ ” Tim felt tears coming to his eyes. He felt so raw and exposed, “This is the next step. I did all that training, I’ve got all these techniques under my belt now. And  _ now _ I need to use them while  _ living _ my life. I can't  _ not _ be out there anymore.”

“Tim-”

“If we need to work something out, like- like that I'll always have to patrol with someone else, or maybe strap 10 more monitors onto my suit. Whatever it is, I’ll do it. I’ll follow all your rules to a  _ T. _ ”

“ _ Tim- _ ”

“I don’t want to go behind your back. I don't want this to be like when I first put on the suit. But I need you to know that I  _ am _ going back out on patrol, Bruce. I  _ need  _ this!”

“Okay, Tim! It’s okay!” Bruce had his hands on his shoulders. Tim sniffed and wiped at his face. He was crying, why was he always crying?

Bruce pulled him into a hug and Tim pressed his face into his chest.

“It’s okay.” Bruce said gently, “You’re right. You’ve put so much work into all of this. And it’s- it’s time to start getting back to your life. All of it. I hear you, Tim. I hear you.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Bruce pulled back, but kept his hands on Tim’s shoulders, “I will admit, I don’t like it. But that’s…..that’s on me. I never like putting any of you kids in danger. But you’ve made a brilliant case, and as long as you stick to all of these guidelines, we’ll follow your plan.”

Tim wiped at his eyes.

Bruce knelt down and looked up at him, “I never want you to have to go behind my back. I know I can be….overbearing. I’m- that’s part of my trauma. But I need you to be able to talk to me. I need to know that you’ll come to me, about this, about anything.”

Tim nodded, “I know. I- I don’t want to.”

Bruce smiled sadly, “I certainly didn’t give you much else to do in the beginning, huh? And I’ve never really addressed it afterwards, aside from allowing you to continue as Robin. I’m sorry, Tim. I was wrong.”

Tim just stood there, blinking at him. “...yeah?”

“Yes. I was not in the best head space back then. But you know that. It’s why you were there.” Bruce squeezed Tim’s arms, “Things are different now, I’m different now. You helped me get here.”

Tim blinked back a fresh wave of tears, “I’ve really really missed being Robin.  _ Really  _ being Robin.”

“I’ve missed having you out there.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Patrol was bliss. Tim was finally back in his suit with his cape flapping behind him as he soared over the rooftops. Even if it wasn’t the same suit he had last worn. Bruce had worked with Tim to design a newer model, with a few more monitors and back-up systems for things like emergency beacons.Tim added some of the upgrades he’d been working on over his tenure of manning comms at night. He also changed the color scheme.

No more green, only the barest amounts of yellow. He wore the new black and red like a symbol. Cassie had been right. The possessions Kon left behind were not  _ everything left of him.  _ This was something. Something Tim could keep alive. 

“Robin,” Oracle spoke through the comms, “Batman, there’s an incident on First and Main. Looks like two different gangs clashing.”

“Responding,” Batman replied. 

Robin felt his happiness settle to a subtle hum in the back of his mind. He wasn’t out here to just parkour across the city. He was out here to help people. He followed Batman as they swung towards downtown. The sounds of Gotham rushed by in the wind around him.

He was back. He was home.


	9. And Another Step Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super loose interpretation of "Flash, the fastest man alive." Mainly just keeping the fall out.

It was a rare sunny afternoon in Gotham. Bart had decided it was hanging-out-with-Tim time. And once he saw how unusually wonderful it was out, it became get-Tim-out-in-the-sun time. So they were at a park, and Tim was  _ trying _ to show Bart how to skateboard without relying on superspeed.

“It’s really not that hard,” Tim sighed as the board shot out from under Bart’s feet again, “You’re just focusing too much on foot placement and not enough on your center of gravity.”

“Wellllllll, yeah,” Bart grabbed the board, “It’s  _ almost like _ I’m having to do this on super-super slow mode. You try walking ten times slower than normal and tell me your balance is the same.”

“It is if you focus on it. Like most martial arts. If you can’t do it right slowly, then you're probably not doing it right quickly.”

“Dude, I’ve got the body mechanics. It’s the lack of momentum that’s throwing me off.”

“We could go back to the manor and do this in a far less public setting.”

“Nope! Operation: Expose Tim to Sunlight is still in progress!” Bart insisted. “But forget the boards for a bit, let’s get something to eat. I’m starving.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. They hadn’t been out very long and he hadn’t noticed Bart actually using any superspeed outside of the manor. “You already went through the bars Alfred gave us?”

“No, but I see a hot dog stand and I want all of them,” Bart grabbed Tims hand and began dragging him over to it, “C’mon, rich boy, show me a good time.”

“I think you are vastly overselling street dogs. Especially uptown street dogs.”

“Food is food is food,” Bart chanted, “You know I’m not picky.”

Tim squeezed Bart’s hand, “I know.” He knew exactly why Bart was never picky with food.

“Hey,” Bart stopped pulling and instead grabbed Tim into a hug, “No downer thoughts. I just want hotdogs.”

Tim hugged him back, “Okay, but we can’t get more than 20. It would look too weird.”

Bart pouted, “Boo. Go back to downer thoughts. Buy me fifty hotdogs out of pity.”

“Bart.”

“Forty?” Bart batted his eyelashes at him, squeezing him harder.

“ _ Bart. _ ”

“Thirty?”

Tim sighed, “If we buy 15 and then we wait a while before buying the next 15…”

“Fuck yeah!” Bart sped off to grab a spot in the line to the stand. It wasn’t too much faster than an excited teen might be capable of running. Tim joined him at a much calmer pace.

The teenager working the stand didn't manage to cover their distress at the amount of hot dogs they were buying at once. Tim slid a twenty into the tip jar and hoped it at least helped. They got their(Bart's) food and skated around the park to waste enough time before going back for seconds. The line behind them was even longer that time, so Tim slid two more twenties into the jar next to the first.

Bart was half way through the dogs, trying to convince Tim that they could  _ totally _ go back for more, when Bart's watch chimed. He read the face of it and shot to his feet.

"I gotta go. Sorry, Tim. I'll text!"

And then Bart was just gone.

Tim's phone chirped in his pocket. He fished it out, a stream of texts flooded in.

_ Sent 1:04pm - Sorry, family called for immediate backup.  _

_ Sent 1:04pm - Something about the Speed Force.  _

_ Sent 1:04pm - I think I can feel it. Something's going really weird. _

_ Sent 1:05pm - Would've stuck around to explain in person, but it sounded really urgent. I'll update you and the team when I learn more. _

Tim grabbed his extra board, left the abandoned hotdogs next to a gaggle of teens by the playground that were definitely having a better afternoon than he was, and rushed back to the manor.

Bruce was still at the office, Alfred off on errands. So Tim went down to the cave and alerted the member on duty at the Watchtower. He also sent a message to Titan's Tower.

None of the Flashes were responding. Not Wally, who was technically off active duty while he was attending college. Not Jay, who was retired 14 years now. Whatever was going on, they were all involved, and they were all unreachable. 

Tim manned the Bat computer. He ran a diagnostic every few minutes to make sure the system was still online, still receiving. There weren't any updates. Tim began pulling up recently closed and active case files from Central City. He slogged through them, looking for anything at all that could possibly be connected to an anomaly with the Speed Force. Nothing stood out. Tim had a live feed of Iris' show playing on the monitor. She didn't look stressed, she probably didn't even know anything was happening.

Bruce came down into the cave, and the two of them poured through old JL files where there was any mention of the Speed Force. It took them hours. There were still no updates, no check ins. Tim's phone hadn't received any further texts.

Around 6:23pm Pacific standard time, an immense lightning storm materialized over San Francisco. The Titans called it in, and headed out to investigate. But it disappeared before they even arrived at the epicenter.

A minute after the lightning storm had ended, Tim's phone received a delayed text from Bart's number.

_ Sent 1:06pm - This might actually be world ending. The family's all here and we're going in. I'll message again when we're on the other side. _

Tim was turning his phone to show the message to Bruce when it started ringing. Wally was calling. Tim answered and put it on speaker. Wally's voice echoed off the high cavernous walls of the cave.

And then Bart was just...

gone.


	10. (Not) Alone

Central City loved their heroes, to a point even beyond most others. They had a museum for the Flashes. There were Flash appreciation days, multiple in the calendar year. Each of the Flashes had been invited at different points to give speeches at graduations, lead parades, dedicate new buildings and monuments. Central City loved the Flashes.

It mourned them just as passionately. Red was the color of choice, but yellow and white were also abundant. You couldn’t look anywhere in the city without seeing someone wearing their heroes’ colors, most often featuring a lightning bolt. Schools and businesses were canceled for the official dedication and day of remembrance. The museum was always open to the public, always a popular tourist attraction. But on that evening, a week from the day, the whole city gathered in the plaza surrounding it. There was no statue to be raised here, not like the new one standing outside Titan’s Tower. There was a new exhibit, hurriedly compiled in the first wing of the museum. Newspaper stories cut out and mounted in frames, photos from social media printed on large canvases, notes and letters collected from those he’d saved personally. 

Tim along with the other Titans had been invited to the dedication of the new hall. Not all of them could make it, but Cassie, Gar, Kory, and Tim had Zeta-ed in to be there. As were the Flashes; Barry, Wally, and even Jay in his old uniform. They all arrived together, and the crowd noticed immediately.

“Flash!” a kid called out. Several others echoed.

There was music playing in different parts, most sounding like cellphones but there was a live band up closer to the front of the plaza. The crowd didn’t part around them, didn’t clear a path to the small stage at the museum’s entrance. But none of the Flashes seemed to be waiting for them to, they just squared their shoulders and walked in. Kids grabbed unto their legs. Teens and adults approached them, some offering flowers and others offering hugs. The three Flashes accepted them all, kneeling to talk to the kids, taking hugs from anyone who offered. Almost everyone had tears in their eyes. 

The Titans had a less familiar reception, but the crowd was no less kind. The children present were far less reserved than the adults. Kids came up to them, some teens, but mostly younger. A little girl who had a wonder woman tiara on asked Cassie for a hug. She obliged, and more approached. Kory was a hugger and was also making her way through from one embrace to the next. Some kids offered her drawings, letters, she treated each one like it was made of gold. Gar stuck close to Wally, and the two of them moved through the crowd together, taking and giving comfort.

Tim gravitated towards the middle of the group, avoiding the crowd for as long as possible. But as everyone began to talk, and cry, and hug the people around them, the circle widened and eventually there was just the physical space keeping Robin separated from those around him.

People were sending him sad looks, some salutes, some words in passing. He understood. This wasn’t his city. And it stood in such stark contrast. He could never picture Gotham doing this, mourning as a community over their vigilantes. He decided to make his way to the stage, but the crowd was dense, and even without trying to engage with those gathered, it was slow going.

“Um, R-Robin?” A young teenager pushed through the crowd to approach him. He had an Impulse shirt on, and a Flash wristband. He looked twelve at most.

Tim stopped and turned towards the kid.

“Um, I just- I wanted to say thank you. You- all of the Titans. Thank you.”

Tim nodded. “We try.”

“You, you saved me. Last year. I was on a trip with my school to San Francisco and our bus got pinned in traffic when there were a bunch of mutated dinosaurs everywhere. Sup- SuperBoy saved our bus and Impulse- uh, Kid Flash got us to a shelter. It was the scariest thing that’s ever happened to me, but you guys saved me.”

Tim nodded again. He remembered that day, he’d been working with Gar to track down the scientist responsible while the rest of the team was on crowd control and protection. It didn’t feel like it had only been a year. It felt like it had been another lifetime. 

Tim made it to the stage and decided to skulk around behind it. He saw the media tent set up to the side. He knew Iris was covering that night’s dedication, but he couldn’t see her. There were a few other people milling around. Tim recognized the museum director speaking with the Mayor. There were other public officials present, all wrapped up in their own conversations. Tim blended into the shadows cast by the museum’s facade and settled in to wait.

“Not a fan of crowds?”

Tim flinched as he spun. Iris was standing between two bushes to get to his hiding place. She had her mic and gear strapped onto her belt, but no one else standing behind her.

“It’s a lot.” Tim said evenly.

Iris nodded and then pointed to the dirt next to Tim, “Is this seat taken?”

Tim scooted over. Iris squeezed in and sat on the ground, her perfectly pressed skirt wrinkling.

“I figure it’ll be another half an hour at least until the actual ceremony starts.” Iris said.

Tim nodded, “It’s going to be a long night.”

“Looks like it,” Iris sighed, “Gotham could spare you?”

Tim grit his teeth together. He felt guilty about coming. B was out on his own. Sure, there was Black Bat and Spoiler. And Nightwing was only a town over. But it still felt wrong. His chest felt tight, there was so much that could happen while he wasn’t there. So much had already.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk. I just figured….I don’t know. I saw you slink back over here, away from everything. Felt a little jealous.”

Tim looked at her. Her makeup was perfectly done up, but he could see what it was covering. Bags under the eyes, redness in them. Her hands were twisting gently around each other, fidgeting.

“It’s only been a week,” Tim offered gently, “My, uh, my therapist says it’s normal to be overwhelmed.”

Iris nodded again, “Makes sense.”

It was a full two hours before the actual ceremony started. The Mayor gave an address. It was short, but heartfelt. Other officials spoke, the tone remained constant. And then the museum director took the podium. She spoke of how the exhibit was created, the outpouring of stories from the community, the twitter threads and submissions they had received to their website. She spoke of how it had been curated down to what could be displayed in the wing, but directed people to go to their online gallery to see the entire collection.

“To say that Impulse, Kid Flash, had an impact on our city is a vast understatement. He was a gifted soul, who rose not only to uphold the legacy of Flash, but to leave us with a legacy all his own. His heroism was global, his strength was awe inspiring, and his kindness was overflowing. We thank our heroes for being with us tonight, to mourn and to celebrate his life. We, as a museum, as a community, as a city, and as individuals, dedicate this exhibit in his honor.”

The applause was nearly deafening. Barry and Wally cut the ribbon. 

Cassie pulled Tim with her into the wing. They both walked a slow path around the rooms. They were featured in a few of the prints, mainly the ones from Bart’s Kid Flash social media accounts. Kon was in a few of them too. Tim felt his emotions drifting off and a numbness settling in. Cassie’s hand on his arm kept him grounded, a little. 

“Do you want to go?” Cassie asked him as they passed back out of the museum’s entrance.

“I don’t-” Tim took a deep breath, “I don’t think I should be alone.”

“Okay,” Cassie squeezed his arm. “I don’t want to be alone either.”


	11. The Family Grows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Content warnings: A far past possible Non-con is referenced briefly. A murder attempt is had.

The world continued to spin. Weeks came and went and turned into months. Tim had a birthday. And the next week was when they decided when Cass’s birthday could be. 

They got her identity squared away to the point where Cassandra Wayne was able to be officially adopted. Tim was there at the courthouse, along with Barbara and Steph. Alfred insisted they join the family photo shoot, last names notwithstanding. 

Over the months, Barbara had decided to take Stephanie more firmly under her wing. And so one purple suit was traded for another, this time with a bat proudly on the chest.

Titans got new members, experienced and new alike. Tim had good days and bad. But his system was working. And as long as he was honest about checking in on himself, honest about how he was really doing, it worked. He was able to patrol, and content when he was on monitor duty instead. Content enough.

Everything was still hard. Tim and Cassie spent the odd afternoons hanging out, either at the Tower or the Manor. Grief sat heavy between them. Sometimes they reminisced, tears flowing from laughter as well as sadness. Sometimes they escaped, just spent hours playing video games or binging sitcoms. Sometimes they lashed out at each other, pushed each other away. But they were working through it. The last thing either of them wanted was to lose each other too.

Tim was living his life. He was grieving, growing, falling, and getting back up again. He had his family, his friends, his work. 

Really, he should have seen it coming. 

One night, after returning from a mission in Europe chasing Man-Bat on a wild crime spree, Bruce brought someone back with him.

Damian. Fucking. Wayne.

-';;'-

Bruce had brought an assassin home to the Manor. Bruce had brought a severely traumatized child soldier back to the Manor. Bruce had brought an entitled narcissistic violence-prone brat back to the Manor. 

Bruce had a kid. A biological son. Who had been born and raised without his knowledge. (Who had been conceived without his consent? Tim wasn't sure on that detail and really wasn't sure if it was his place to even broach the topic with Bruce.) 

Of course Bruce- _family is the most important thing to me and also my biggest trauma trigger_ -Wayne brought the kid home. It was obviously the best way to get the kid away from the League, away from Talia. Or at least the most immediate way. 

Which left Damian Wayne (assassin, victim, murderer, dehumanized weapon, entitled heir to the demon's head himself) in a drastically alien environment. Tim could see that going sideways faster than a speedster late for a JLA briefing.

Alfred was down the hall in the spare bedroom, helping Damian get settled in. The door was open. Tim and Bruce were just out of immediate ear shot, but would still be able to react if anyone shouted. 

"We can't just tuck him into bed and deal with this in the morning." Tim insisted, "You need to push past your jet lag and lay down some rules. Explicitly."

"He is just as exhausted as I am, Tim. I doubt he would even register what I was saying."

"Of course he would. You're his father. Talia has obviously told him something about you. I'm betting on idolizing from the way he kept eyeing you the whole time back in the cave." Tim hissed, "He needs structure. Like I did when I first stayed here, like Cass did when she first showed up. If you don't lay out the rules he's going to default to instinct, which for him is _League_ training. And I don't want to wake up with a knife in my neck."

Bruce grit his jaw in the way he often did when Tim was right and he hadn't yet figured out how to accept that. It could be confused with stoic indifference, but Tim had seen it enough times.

"I don't want you to wake up with a knife in your neck. Or Alfred. Or Cass." Tim softened his tone, "Please, Bruce. Just make sure he knows that murder is a no-go here."

Bruce sighed, and really looked like the 10+ hour trip home to Gotham was catching up with him.

"I will reiterate what we spoke about on the trip back. And make sure he knows that killing is not allowed."

"Thank you." Tim gave Bruce a hug. He was slow to return it. 

"Maybe you and Cass could bunk in the same room tonight. Just in case."

"I'll let her know when she gets back from patrol."

The following morning, after a tense breakfast, Tim buried himself with catching up on paperwork down in the Cave. When Damian came to ambush him, Tim had been waiting for it. The first strike of the kid's sword missed Tim and instead went slicing through the keyboard.

"Bruce really doesn't like people fucking with the batcomputer."

Not the best comeback to a murder attempt, but Tim was only on his first cup of coffee.

Damian was deathly quiet as he lunged again. Tim had the advantage of terrain. He knew the batcave inside and out. The two of them raced around the cave, Tim grabbing bits and pieces of weapons and gadgets as he dodged and evaded. He set off the silent alarm just before the kid cornered him at the T-Rex.

Tim had to give it to him, Damian was no joke. He had speed, agility, and ruthlessness on his side. But Tim had experience, and that home field advantage. Like knowing that the head and jaws of the T-Rex were not fixed in place. 

Damian went over the side, scrambling for a hold as the jaws swung free. Tim knew in a split second he had three options. 

He could push Damian's hands off, sending him tumbling away from the jaws but onto the hard cave floor. It wasn't a lethal height, not for someone with league level training in acrobatics. But it was still high enough to guarantee some form of injury.

He could do nothing and let the kid be impaled on the teeth swinging up towards him. It probably wouldn't be fatal. Like 80% chance of just being horribly maimed.

He could pull the kid up, and in doing so, leave himself vulnerable for the moments it took to get the kid out of chomping range.

Tim was pulling Damian up before he consciously chose to. He moved on instinct. This was a kid. A kid in danger. 

They both steadied themselves as the jaws latched shut. Tim took his hands off Damian's arms, and held his hands up.

"Are you oka-"

_Ow._

Tim didn't even have enough time to look down at the dagger in his stomach before he was falling backwards. He had been _shoved violently backwards- downwards._ His mind was frozen in shock. There was a blade in his gut. He couldn't even start to think of how he should angle himself-

Tim hit the cave floor. He heard a sickening crack. He felt nothing as his awareness bled away.


	12. Already Taken its Due

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Tim.

Tim came groggily to consciousness. Everything felt fuzzy, clouded. He could tell he was laying down, but couldn't figure out why. All of his limbs felt heavy. His head felt heavy. His eyelids were lead. So he just lay there, fading in and out as his surroundings alluded him.

Some unknowable time later, Tim's thoughts came rushing back to him. There was a deep, echoing pain in his skull, back, and lancing across his stomach. 

He was...hurt? He was injured. He had been attacked. In the cave-?! 

Tim forced his eyes open, blinking against the harsh white light that flooded his vision. He tried to turn his head to look around, but there was something holding his neck in place. He strained his eyes to pear around.

He was in a white room. Florescent lights on the ceiling above him. A metal rail haloed where he was laying. A curtain was pushed to one end of it. Tim tried to look down at himself, but couldn't see past his nose. And the oxygen mask that was strapped to his face.

Tim forced himself to take a deep breath which pulled at his stomach. Which sent bolts of pain through him. He hissed in a breath. Which only hurt more.

"Tim?! Oh my god, Tim! You're awake!"

Cassie leaned into Tim's view. She was standing over him, dressed in civies and had her hair pulled up in a ponytail. She looked tired, worried. The beginnings of dark bags under her eyes looked very strange on her. Was that even a thing for demigods?

"Hey," Tim said. His throat ached and he grimaced. His voice was hoarse like he'd been yelling for hours.

"Hey," Cassie's eyes were getting misty, "You really scared me."

"I-" Tim's thoughts raced back to the cave, the attack- _Damian_. He looked up at Cassie. It was only Cassie. Where was everyone else? Where was he? What-

"What happened?" Tim gasped, "Where's Alfred and Cass and Bruce? Are they okay? What happened with Damian-?!"

"Tim, they're fine, everyone's okay." Cassie put her hands on Tim's shoulders, squeezing gently. "I don't think anyone else got attacked. Everyone is alive. I saw them yesterday. Dick was here just an hour ago."

Tim settled. That was good. No one else was hurt. Wait-

" _Yesterday_?"

Cassie sighed, "It's been two days since you were attacked. You just finished your last surgery this morning."

Tim gently flexed his feet, then his hands. His limbs were heavy, but they moved well enough. 

"What are my injuries?"

Cassie gave him a sympathetic look.

"It's kind of a mixed bag. Most of your intestines and part of your stomach were partial ripped or punctured. Apparently you were stabbed with a knife that then broke inside of you?"

Tim grit his teeth as he shifted and pain shot up his abdomen. 

"Uh, but most of that got patched up. There will probably be a long recovery from that, but the doctors said the surgery went well. Your left shoulder was also broken in a few different places, including your scapula. There was a lot of swelling near your spine, thus the brace. It didn't look like any of your spinal cord was actually fractured. So, that's at least a good thing."

Tim took a measured breath. So he must've landed shoulder first and the hit broke the knife. Not….the _worst_ that could have happened. He tried to focus on that. He wasn't dead. He probably wasn't paralyzed. Silver linings.

"Where's Damian now?"

Cassie's face pulled into an ugly snarl. Tim had only seen her look like that when squaring off against supervillains.

"He'd be in a body bag if it was my call."

Tim clenched his jaw. He managed to raise a hand slightly, reaching for Cassie. She noticed and took it in hers gently.

"It's good to know I've got an Amazon in my corner." Tim smiled and Cassie couldn't help but give a small smile back.

"I'm serious, Tim. I almost lost you. You can't- you can't die. Not you. The universe already took more than it's due. It can't have you too."

Tim squeezed her hand as much as he had the strength too. It wasn't much. 

"Sorry. I underestimated an assassin. My bad."

Cassie breathed out a shallow laugh. "Shut up. Apologize when you're better. I can't be properly mad at you for almost dying when you're still in a hospital bed."

"Shhhhhh, I'm using your pity to my advantage. Let it happen."

Cassie gave a real laugh to that one, and Tim took it as a sign. Things would probably be okay. Maybe. It was bound to happen sooner or later.

Or maybe that was just the pain meds making him an optimist. 

-';;'-

Tim and his consciousness were the flightiest friends for a few days. He was asleep more than not, with his regiment of pain meds knocking him out again and again. But sleep meant faster healing, so Tim tried not to complain.

Cassie was always there when he was awake. Tim was beginning to suspect she was sleeping in his room. But he never got around to mentioning it before he fell back asleep again.

Bruce was there, the third time Tim remembered being awake. It was his and Cassie's raised voices that had roused him.

"-not going back to the Manor. How could you even- that little bastard is still there!"

"It is not as simple as you are making it out to be."

"Looks pretty fucking simple from where I'm standing. Stop boarding a _literal assassin_ in the house where your children live. And if you can't do that for whatever bullshit reason- then of course Tim's not going back there!"

Tim cleared his throat. Even with his neck brace removed after the swelling had receded, it was hard for him to maneuver. So gesturing for his visitors to come closer to his bed was easier than trying to roll over to face them.

"Hey, B."

Bruce looked like he'd just gone ten rounds with Killer Croc. He was pale (paler), with deep dark bags under his eyes, and was carrying himself like it had been more than a day since he'd last slept. 

"Hey, son," Bruce leaned over and took Tim's hand in his own. "I'm sorry we woke you."

Tim shook his head softly, "I'm glad you're here."

Bruce's eyebrows arched a little at that. It wouldn't have been much to most people, but to Tim Bruce looked a second away from sobbing. It was an odd expression to see on him outside of the Manor. 

"I am so sorry." Bruce said softly, his deep voice gentle, "You warned me about him. I should have been watching him closer. I shouldn't have left him alone. We- we discovered that he had disabled the alarms in- downstairs. Even the silent one you managed to set off. It was sheer luck that Dick went to check on you as soon as he got to the Manor. If he hadn't found you-"

Bruce's voice caught in his throat. Tim squeezed his hand. He looked past him to see Cassie. She had her arms crossed and a glare leveled at Bruce. Tim took a steadying breath.

"Damian is still at the Manor?"

Bruce pursed his lips as he nodded once.

"It's the only place I believe we can keep him without physically imprisoning him. Which, even with our best tech, would only restrain him for so long." Bruce grit his teeth, "I am using Talia's order against him. In refusing to 'instruct' him as he was sent to me for. It has gained his grudging compliance for now. I wish I had thought to use it before he hurt you."

Tim could see the logic in that. Just telling the kid the rules of his new home didn't seem to amount for much. Threatening to jeopardize his mission on the other hand, might actually work.

"And you want me to come back to the Manor, with him still there."

Bruce looked back over his shoulder at Cassie. She was still death-glaring at him.

"I want you to be able to come home." Bruce sighed, "But with things as they stand, I don't know how I'd be able to keep you safe under the same roof. So I will be doing whatever I can to get Damian to a place where he can't harm himself or others without forcing him back to the League. And your friend has offered a rather good solution to our logistic problem."

Bruce stepped aside while still holding Tim's hand. Cassie's stance softened. She spoke to Tim directly.

"As soon as you can be discharged, I'm bringing you to the Tower. Cy and Gar and Ray have already signed off on it. You can live there while you're recovering and while Bruce is finding a hole to squirrel an assassin away into."

Tim watched Bruce for his reaction. But he managed to keep his stoic facade in place.

"What about Cass?" Tim asked. "What if Damian decides to go after her too?"

"She will be rooming with Barbara at her place. As we...settle things at the Manor."

Tim nodded. He knew Cass was a badass and could kick Ra's ass if it came down to it. But having to live and sleep in the company of people who would try to hurt you….no one should have to endure that. Especially not Cass. She'd grown up in it. Things were supposed to be better for her now. Home was supposed to be safe.

Tim could feel himself losing energy. He stifled a yawn but neither Bruce nor Cassie missed it.

"Get some rest," Cassie told him, "I'll be here when you wake up."

Bruce raised Tim's hand and kissed it gently. "Sleep. We'll sort things out. Without waking you this time."

Tim rolled his eyes, and Cassie snorted a laugh. Tim settled back onto the bed and was out again in seconds. His hand still held in his dad's warm grip.


	13. Settle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Self-harm content warning

Dick was there the day Tim was to be checked out and officially discharged to home care. He brought a suitcase of Tim’s things from the Manor, with promises to send anything else along that he may have missed.

Dick was also doing everything in his power to get the most hugs in before Tim left.

“It’s not like you won’t be able to come see me.” Tim sighed as he settled back into Dick’s arms. How he managed to fit in the hospital bed with him, without stressing any of his stitches or bruises, was a mystery. 

“It won’t be the same. You’ll be on the other side of the country.” Dick nuzzled his face into Tim’s hair, “Also, I’m on main Damian baby-sitting duty, so I don’t know how free my time will be.”

“You’re watching him? What about Bruce?” Cassie looked up from her phone.

“He’s got to maintain the threat of non-engagement. Him refusing to teach Damian is more believable if he keeps their contact limited. So while B’s stuck in Negative-Authority-Figure mode, I’m going in as the reliable-caring type. You know, try to approach him as an older brother or mentor. He’s at least minding what I’m telling him to do for now.”

“So you’re moving back in to the Manor?” Tim asked.

“Nope.” Dick squeezed Tim gently, “I’m going to set up in one of our penthouse safe-houses. And then we’ll move Damian in with me. So we’ll be able to use trips to the Manor and exposure to Bruce as positive reinforcement. It’ll also enable Cass to move back into her room, and you to come home once you’ve got your strength back.”

Tim was quiet as he thought it over.

“What about your job at the center in Bloodhaven?”

“I’m taking some family care leave. On paper it’s all handled.”

Tim chewed on the inside of his cheek, “And what if Damian attacks you?”

Dick sighed, “Then we’ll deal with it. O’s got the whole penthouse monitored. With back-ups and back-ups for those. Plus Steph or Cass will check in on their patrols. But I think it’s as good as we’re going to get for now. We’ve just got to see how he settles in. Or doesn’t.”

-’;;’-

Garfield and Victor were there when Cassie and Tim arrived. They got his stuff moved into his room. Cassie and Victor left to go address a call for the Titans, but Gar stayed with Tim. He helped him set the room up, moving furniture to better accommodate his limited mobility. Tim pulled up the new feeds of the forest fire the rest of the Titans were responding to. They seemed to have it well in hand.

Garfield settled into a house cat form and snuggled into Tim’s side. His steady purring and reassuring weight helped ground Tim. He’d probably have to eat something soon, but Tim’s appetite was suffering from all his new pain and antibiotic meds. For now he could just...relax for a bit. The Tower was his new home. At least for the next few months. He’d been partially living there for years now, but this felt different. He couldn’t just decide to call the bat-jet, or ask to borrow the T-ship and fly back to Gotham. 

He knew it was to protect him. He knew it was the best for the whole family. He was here with his friends, cared for and safe. And he could always just ask Cass or Bruce or Alfred or Babara or Steph to come visit. He could video chat his friends from school, talk to them about the assignments he was now completing remotely. 

But he couldn’t help the cold spot settling into his aching guts. He couldn’t go home. He couldn’t go back to his room in the Manor. The first room he’d felt comfortable actually displaying his art in, taking a dinner back to eat in, inviting friends to visit. He couldn’t go train with Cass in the Cave. Or make a mess in the kitchen with Steph. Or spend the day working next to Alfred in the library. 

Tim wiped at the tears gathering in his eyes. Garfield shifted into a larger cat (Norwegian forest cat? It was hard to tell with him being all green) and flopped over Tim’s legs, purring even louder. Tim flicked his ear gently and Gar lazily pawed at his hand.

“Sorry.”

“Dude, it’s okay.” Garfield butted his head into Tim’s hip, “Let me know if I’m too heavy.”

“You’re fine.” Tim flipped the TV to a different news feed. The fire was reported 100% contained. The news chopper coverage caught a nice shot of Cassie carrying a possum and its babies out of the smoke.

“Aww! So cute!” Garfield cooed.

Tim chuckled, “I thought Vic banned pets.”

“I’m not saying I want to keep them,” Garfield flicked his tail, “Silkie is more than enough trouble.”

“I thought Vic  _ banned  _ pets.”

“Silkie is a Titan. He helped defeat a supervillain. Totally not a pet.”

“Whatever you say.”

-’;;’-

Tim knew objectively, watching the feeds of Dick’s apartment wasn’t the healthiest thing to be doing with his time. But he was taking a break from diving into cold case files, and no one else was up at 3 am in the Tower.

Damian, it seemed, also couldn’t sleep.

Tim watched the kid as he worked through a few different martial art routines. Damian also ran himself through sets of push-ups, sit-ups, curls, stretches, pull ups, a few yoga poses, and some very long planks. He’d been going for at least an hour, and Tim knew from Dick’s notes that they’d already done a bunch of workouts together during the day. Damian was running himself ragged. 

Tim finally decided to call Dick when Damian started using his bed post for kicking drills. His metal bed post. Which he hadn’t even wrapped a blanket around to pad.

“..Tim? Whassup?”

“You need to stop Damian. He’s hurting himself.”

“Wha-?”

“I’m watching the feed. He’s training, but it’s pretty clearly also self-harm.”

“Okay, yeah, I hear him now. I’ll go stop him. Thanks, Tim.”

He hung up. Tim watched the feed as Damian very clearly heard Dick before he got close to his door. He stopped his drills. Tim watched Damian’s head whip around to look at all of the points of entry and exit (the bedroom door and the one window) before he sat himself on top of his bed.

Dick knocked at the door. Damian said something. Tim considered pulling up the audio, but decided that might be just a step too stalker-y. He watched Dick open the door. Tim was always impressed at how well Dick could control his body language. He kept himself in the doorway, he kept his shoulders relaxed and posture open. The two of them looked like they were exchanging words. Damian nodded to something, and Dick finally approached him. 

Dick knelt in front of his bed, and waited for Damian to scoot forward to the edge. Dick reached and rolled up one of Damian’s pant legs. Even through the video feed, Tim could see Damian’s shin was already a mess of darkening bruises. 

Tim kept an eye on the feed as Dick went about fetching the first aid kit and applying ointment to the bruises. He saw Damian grip his hands into fists, but he made no aggressive moves. Dick also grabbed the kid a snack and water. Minutes past. The two of them seemed to just be talking, Dick taking a seat on the floor near the bed, Damian still seated on top of it. 

Tim took a deep breath, and closed the feed.


	14. Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Y'all ready to cry?

“And I thought Kon had a weird obsession with reality TV.”

Tim threw his pencil at Cassie. She grabbed it before it hit her in the face.

“Have you ever heard of knocking? You’re worse than Bruce.”

“No, I’m not.”

Tim sighed, “Okay, no, you’re not. But still. Door. Was closed.”

“I was trying to surprise you. Vic and Gar got like, a thousand pizzas delivered. There’s an impromptu party forming in the game room.”

“Oh,” Tim shut down his laptop, “Yeah, that sounds good.”

“So you don’t want to talk about you cyber-stalking the brat-ssassin?”

“Not really,” Tim grabbed his cane, “And I’m not stalking. I’m surveilling”

“I don’t see the difference.”

“It's- …..there really isn't one.” Tim admitted, “I’m just...curious. And concerned. I don’t like leaving Dick alone with him. Even with all the cameras.”

“That’s fair.” Cassie walked with him down the hall, “What’s got you so curious?”

Tim took a moment to organize his thoughts.

"I don't understand why he would choose me as his target. I knew it was a possibility. Everyone was a possible target. Maybe it was because I'm Robin? But that doesn't make much sense.” Tim shrugged as he and Cassie walked into the elevator, “I thought he idolized Bruce and Batman, not Dick, or Jason. Or me. I mean, he mentioned being Bruce's 'blood-son' four times in the one real conversation we all had the night he arrived. If anything, he should be pissed at Cass or Dick for being Bruce's adopted kids."

"Wait- what?" Cassie pulled a face. "Bruce didn't adopt you?"

Tim shook his head. "No. My dad- Jack Drake is still out there and alive. It's not like when I ran away and disappeared for a while, he decided to sign away his parental rights just in case I wanted to get a new family.”

They both continued around the next hallway, the noises from the game room already reaching their ears.

“When he didn't report me missing, and then moved out of Gotham, it was safe enough for me to go back to school. But Barbara was the one to update my contacts at school and fudged my mailing and home address. Bruce had temporary custody of me back when Jack was in a coma. So no one has looked too closely into him being my contact again."

Tim sighed, "But I don't know what my da- what Jack would do if Bruce tried to adopt me. He knows I'm Robin. It wouldn't take too much brain power to connect Bruce adopting me with my continuing to work with Batman. It's all just way more trouble than it's worth."

Cassie stopped walking and Tim paused next to her. She caught his gaze, "But if you could- would you want Bruce to adopt you?"

Tim felt his chest get tight. Had to clear his throat around nothing. 

"Of  _ course _ I do. He's- he's been more of a parent to me in these past four years than either of my birth parents ever were. I- I never actually asked him about it, but I…."

Tim stopped himself. Cassie nodded and motioned for him to continue.

"I've kind of had this plan, like in the back of my head, since we figured out that he couldn't adopt me as things stand. That… maybe…. when I turn 18... I could be adopted as an adult. I would be able to sign everything myself, no Jack Drake involved. It could still backfire and push Jack to expose me, but it wouldn't directly involve him or require him to surrender his parental rights. It would just be me, getting to choose my family."

Cassie smiled and pulled Tim in for a hug, "That sounds amazing. But why not tell Bruce about it? Are you worried he wouldn't go for it?"

Tim stepped back, out of the embrace. He looked down at the ground.

"I don't know. I can't see him saying no. It's just…" 

Tim chewed on the inside of his cheek. He knew why he hadn't brought it up. He knew his reasoning, his fears weren't logical. He knew Bruce wouldn't get mad at him for asking to be adopted, even if the plan had to wait. He knew, logically, him asking for what he wanted wouldn't cause Bruce to leave for months on end. Bruce wouldn't cut off contact because Tim wanted love.

He  _ knew _ all of that. He just couldn't  _ feel  _ it. A part of his mind still wouldn't  _ believe _ it.

"I think my fear of abandonment is keeping me from asking him about it. I should talk with Dinah about that at my next session."

Cassie gave him a small smile, "Yeah. That would probably help."

"Can we stop talking about all of this and go eat too much pizza?"

"Okay," Cassie led the way towards the music and laughter, "I'm proud of you, Tim."

Tim's breath caught in his chest. He managed a weak smile and followed her through the hall. 

As the smell of pizza and soda and cheese wizzies washed over him, Tim whispered quietly to himself.

"I think I'm proud of me, too."

-';;'-

Tim was living at Titans Tower in San Francisco. Very much not in Gotham. So he wore his tracker/monitor bracelet watch thing 24/7. Bruce had updated the baselines on its tracking program. His new meds and physical therapy regimes had skewed his normal range. Despite being in much more regular physical pain, being more isolated from his family, and being completely cut off from patrol, Tim hadn't felt very suicidal. Not since moving to the Tower.

Sure, he still had intrusive thoughts. He still needed outside structure to keep his self care at 'healthy' levels. He still had his therapy appointments with Dinah and kept up on his antidepressants. But things were becoming more and more manageable. 

Living in Titans Tower was also night and day to living in Gotham.

For one thing, the weather was almost always sunny at some point in the day. He was now sharing communal spaces with 6+ rotating assortments of teenagers. So there was usually someone to play video games with, cook with, review cases with, chill by the pool with, etc. 

Even his PT felt more like hanging out with a friend than clinical therapy. Victor was his normal spotter. It turned out that having nearly full-body prosthetics made a person very familiar with injury recovery. Raven was also a good PT partner. She had the patience of a saint. Especially when Tim didn't. 

Steph and Cass visited every other week. They did normal things like homework and binging cartoons and beating everyone else at charades. (Cass was amazing at reading people, and Steph knew all the pop culture references.) They did other, less normal things too. Like helping Victor upgrade the Tower's sever room, redesigning their suits' armor plating, and gossiping about Justice League drama.

Dick only managed to come see him once. It was a quick afternoon stop, but it was good to see him. Even if it was only for a few hours. Watching him through the apartment monitors could only do so much for Tim's anxiety.

"Thank you again. For all the monitoring help." Dick ruffled Tim's hair as they sat on the enormous couch in the Tower's communal living room.

Tim shrugged, "I was worried."

"What- you? Never." Dick hugged him tight. "But seriously. Thanks for looking out for me. And him."

Tim hummed. He knew Damian was slowly showing progress. If only by way of watching his habits change. The kid still pushed himself too hard, used exercise and self discipline to self-harm. But his use was slowing, becoming less intense, less frequent. It could almost be said that Damian was getting used to being safe.

"Do you think his afternoon with Bruce is going okay?"

"He put a lot of effort into earning it. So I hope he isn't self sabotaging." Dick shrugged, "But those habits don't break overnight."

Tim nodded. He settled back in Dick's embrace and let himself enjoy having his brother with him. He certainly wasn't going to squander his family time.

Bruce visited every three weeks, after every Watchtower monitor duty he completed. He would spend the day with Tim. They would go over cases, discuss Tim's recovery, catch up on Gotham Knights games, and just enjoy each other's company. They avoided talking about Damian unless Tim brought him up first. 

Tim still hadn't managed to bring up the adult adoption plan. Dinah was working with him on it. But those worries and traumas don't just disappear on their own. He'd get there. Someday.

It was a gorgeous evening by the bay. The Titans were lounging around on the roof of the Tower. Victor and Cassie were manning the grill. Garfield and Kory were setting up the volleyball net. Raven was sitting on the lounge chairs next to Tim, trying to ignore the mutated silkworm begging for pets.

Jaime and Tracy were supposed to stop by soon. Garth was sleeping off the afternoon's training. And Tim was fairly certain Rose was still in town. Though he was unsure if she'd make an appearance.

It was a perfectly peaceful evening. 

Tim's phone's alarm went off.

He fished it out of his pocket. It wasn't any alarm he had set. He opened the alert and read the message. His monitor bracelet had been remotely activated.

Tim felt his heart drop.

Bruce had promised not to activate it remotely. He had promised. Tim remembered his exact words.

' _ I won't turn the monitor on remotely for anything short of an alien invasion.' _

Tim swiped his phone to the news app. He refreshed the feed three times before there was a damning result. Posted one minute ago from The Daily Planet. 

"Tim?"

Raven was looking at him with concern. 

"We need to assemble. TITANS!" Tim yelled across the rooftop.

Tim couldn't go with them. Tim manned the comms at the Tower. He managed to patch through to the JL lines eventually. Apparently the radiation or magic or whatever energy the invaders were giving off was messing with electronics. He could reach the Lanterns through their rings, but everyone else wasn't making it through.

It was a relatively quick battle for how large it was. Almost the entire eastern seaboard had been hit. Nearly every on-duty Leaguer had been called in. But they were spread over such a large area, and with comms mostly useless once they arrived, it was impossible to follow what was happening remotely.

It took hours to reestablish contact after the fighting had subsided. Hours after that to start pulling people back from search and rescue to try and get a head count.

It was well into the next dawn before Cassie managed to get a working comm. She sounded exhausted.

"Robin. Robin, are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Cassie. What's going on? Are you okay? Are all the Titans still together?"

"Y-yeah. We're all alright. Gar's a little more banged up than the rest of us, but it's nothing serious. Rob-  _ Tim.  _ You got to promise me." Cassie took a shaking breath, "You got to promise me you wont hurt yourself."

"What? What happened?! Cassie-"

"Promise me! Say it out loud and mean it!"

Tim could feel his hands shaking. His mind was reeling. Who was it? Cassie wouldn't be asking for him to promise unless someone was-

"Tim, please."

"I promise. I promise I won't hurt myself. Cassie," Tim's pulse was pounding in his ears. "Cassie, who?"

Cassie pulled in another breath. She sounded a second away from sobbing.

"It was Darkseid. His omega beams-" Cassie's voice caught. 

"Batman's gone."


	15. Be There, Be Here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the weirdest thing. When you start recognizing your own bad habits, you can also start being able to see them in other people.

Tim packed his things. He waited until all the Titans were back in San Francisco. He waited until everyone had gotten patched up and had grabbed at least ten hours of sleep. He waited until he could speak to Cassie in person the next day.

“I’m going back to Gotham.”

Cassie grabbed him into a hug. He buried his face in her shoulder and just let himself be held. Eventually they separated. Eventually more people came filtering out into the communal spaces. Eventually everyone knew. 

Cassie and Tim took the T-ship in camouflage mode. They set it down just outside of the city and Tim called a cab.

“I’m still worried about Damian,” Cassie told him as they watched the online car tracker wind its way closer.

“I am too,” Tim admitted, “But I need to be here.”

“You’re still recovering.”

“I am,” Tim said and brushed his hand over the bandage on Cassie’s arm. “Pot, meet kettle.”

“Tim.”

“I need to be here. I’m not going to be stupid about it. I’ll be careful. I’ll check in with you regularly.”

The cab pulled down the road and Cassie sighed.

“You’d better call me if you need help.”

“I promise.”

They hugged and Cassie piled his bags into the cab’s trunk. She stayed and watched until the cab turned a corner. Tim sighed, and pulled out his phone. He had Bruce’s will downloaded. It was pretty straightforward. There was a trust fund set aside for Cass. Alfred’s pension was covered and then some. Most of Bruce’s business holdings would transfer to Lucius, but a minor portion of his shares were left to Dick. Most of Bruce’s personal possessions were left to Dick. And the board seats on the Martha Wayne Foundation and other charity boards were also to be transferred to Dick, pending review by the entities.

There were a few things left to Cass, including partial ownership of the Manor to be transferred once she turned 18. Alfred was listed as her Guardian to be. There was even a clause in there about responsibilities of his estate to provide for ‘any possible biological offspring being unknown as of the date of ratification.’

Tim knew he wasn’t mentioned at all. He couldn’t be. It would raise too many questions. It would drag Jack Drake back into his life. So, Tim knew he wouldn’t be in Bruce’s will. 

It still hurt to read.

The cab pulled up to the Manor next to Dick’s old sedan. The driver helped Tim unload his bags. But then he was pulling away and Tim was left in front of stately Wayne Manor. Alone. 

Bruce wouldn’t be there. Tim would go up to the doors and walk inside and Bruce would never again be there. He couldn’t welcome him home. He couldn’t eat breakfast at 5 in the evening with him. He couldn’t walk past the den at night and know that the soft light inside was Bruce working away. He was home, but Bruce wasn’t here.

Another house now void of a parent.

Tim lugged his bags inside.

No one was in the front hall. Tim dumped his bags in a pile and softly shut the door. Dick’s car had been outside. Did that mean Damian was here? Tim checked that his comm was set to send an emergency beacon, and that his phone was likewise primed. Then he took a deep breath, and settled.

Tim found Alfred in the kitchen. He was standing in the front of the pantry, a pad of paper in his hand and a blank expression on his face.

“Hey, Alfie,” Tim called out softly.

“Oh, Master Tim,” Alfred spun to face him. He tucked the pad away and cleared his throat, “Forgive me, I did not hear you arrive.”

“I let myself in. What’re you doing?”

Alfred looked back at the pantry, “I am taking inventory. Just a simple chore I usually perform on the first and fifteenth, but I’m late getting to it.”

 _Because his son died._ Tim felt the pressure in his chest well up. Tim just nodded.

“Is there something I can prepare for you?” Alfred asked, “I take it you didn’t eat en route?”

Tim wasn’t hungry. He knew he should be by now. But just the thought of trying to eat something made him feel queasy.

“Something lite?”

Alfred gave him a knowing look, “I think that would be wise. We could all do with something easy.”

Tim left him to it. Alfred always looked more relaxed when he had something to do with his hands. Tim walked past his bags in the foyer. He didn’t have the energy to even think about moving or unpacking them. He went up to his room, peeked in to see it was more or less as he’d left it months ago, and then went to find Dick.

He wasn’t in his room, wasn’t in the den, Bruce’s room, the library, or the back patio. No Dick, but also no Damian. Tim sighed, but set his shoulders as he slipped past the grandfather clock. Someone was at the workshop wing of the Cave. Tim approached it hesitantly. Dick was bent over a piece of armor. He looked like he was refitting the internal straps.

Tim recognized the piece he was working on. It was the left gauntlet of the Batsuit. And he was adjusting it to fit a smaller arm.

“Dick?”

Dick jumped and spun to face him. He looked gaunt, with shadows under his eyes. His cheeks were puffy and his eyes were a baseline red. But he smiled when he spotted Tim.

“Tim! I didn’t know you were-” Dick set the armor aside and hurried over to him. He wrapped Tim in a hug. “It’s good to see you.”

Tim leaned into the embrace, squeezing back firmly. “I’m here. To, you know, help. I- I need to know our timeline here. I reviewed the will on my flight over. And then there’s what we’re going to do about Damian, and to a lesser extent all my info. I figured everything would go smoother if we were all in the same place.”

Dick swallowed roughly as he pulled out of the hug, “Ah, yeah. Lucius and Alfred were coming up with different covers, talking about how long we should wait before….before publicly announcing it. But yes, the will. That’s going to be a whole mess and a half.”

“Have you read it?”

Dick rubbed the back of his neck, “Not really. He told me back when we did the official adoption that he’d updated it to include me. But I never really cared about the exacts.”

Tim nodded. He had figured as much. He cast his eyes around the workshop. It looked like the entire Batsuit was being retrofitted. Tim had a horrible suspicion about that. And if it was what he thought, he needed to know now.

“Why are you working on his suit?” 

Dick sighed and fiddled with the cowl on the shelf next to him. “Well, we weren’t exactly the same build.”

Dick didn’t say anything further and Tim’s horrible hunch settled awfully in his empty stomach.

“Well, I didn’t think Nightwing would ever wear a cape.” Tim watched as Dick frowned, “But this isn’t you scavenging for parts, is it?”

“No.” Dick ran his hand over the cowl and then turned away from it, “Gotham needs Batman.”

“ _Bullshit._ ” Tim didn’t mean for his tone to be so biting. But his thoughts were racing miles ahead of him. 

“Tim?”

“That’s bullshit.” Tim’s pulse was picking up and he tried to keep his voice even, “Gotham needs protectors. Gotham needs all of us. Gotham needs people to give a shit. But Gotham doesn’t need you to-”

“You really think things won’t explode if Batman doesn’t make an appearance?” Dick interrupted him. “You really think Batgirl and BlackBat and Nightwing are enough? That there won’t be a huge scramble to roll back everything Bruce has clawed and sacrificed for? That the mobs and the gangs and the rogues haven’t just been _waiting_ for him to fall?”

Dick sounded so...desperate. He looked rough, he sounded rough. His hands were shaking, just a little, but Tim could tell.

“I think Batgirl and BlackBat and Nightwing and Oracle and _Robin_ could be enough.” 

Dick clenched his jaw.

Tim plowed ahead, “But it doesn’t have to be just us. You know Kate’s been operated solo as Batwoman. We could bring her into things like we did Spoiler. The Justice League and Titans would help us.”

“It won’t be the same- It won’t work like it did with Bruce-”

“OF COURSE IT WON’T!”

Tim could feel tears coming to his eyes, but he pushed past the knee-jerk need to cover them up, to calm down and make less noise. “Do you not remember all those late night talks we had about how you _never_ wanted to become Batman? How you could never do what Bruce does- _did_? So now that he’s dead, you’re just going to give up on everything you wanted to do with your life?”

“That’s not- No one else can-” Dick looked physically ill. “I can’t just-”

Tim could tell he was uncomfortable. He was grieving, just like Tim. And also nothing like Tim. Dick had known Bruce longer than anyone, save for Alfred. He’d been his kid, lived with him for more than a decade now. For the majority of Dick’s life. Dick Grayson had been violently orphaned for the second time in his life and Tim could see it breaking him.

Tim knew he was making it hurt more, prying and not letting things rest. But Tim could see the light draining out of Dick. He could _see_ him retreating into himself, resigning himself to folding into the Bruce-shaped hole in their lives. And Tim wasn’t going to let him.

“You can’t _be Bruce_ .” Tim saw his words land, saw Dick look like he’d just been punched. “You can’t just put on the cowl, imitate him, and somehow fix this. It can’t be fixed. He’s _dead_. Batman died. Bruce Wyane died. Our dad died.”

Dick had tears streaming down his face. His arms were crossing in front of his chest, his hands gripping at his sleeves with white knuckles.

“There’s no fixing this,” Tim said softly, “But that doesn’t mean we can’t recover. That we can’t protect what he stood for, what he accomplished, and what he taught us.”

Dick wiped at his face, rubbed his palm roughly across his cheek. “You came to me, that first time. And told me how much Gotham couldn’t lose Batman. How much Bruce needed me back.”

Tim remembered. He remembered being disappointed by his childhood hero. Remembered finding out how human and messy the people behind the capes really were.

“I was right then, and wrong. Gotham needed Bruce. But Gotham couldn’t survive a lethal Batman. Bruce needed a Robin, but I was wrong about it having to be you. You can’t ignore what you need and still be what Gotham needs. It couldn’t work then, it can’t work now.”

Tim took a step forward and held out his hand, “I need you to be Dick. I don’t want you to be Batman and try to shoulder everything alone. I don’t want to lose you to a cowl you never wanted. I need you to be my brother. I need you to be with me, and grieve with me, and weather this _with_ me.”

Dick hiccuped past a sob. He grabbed Tim’s hand and Tim pulled him into another hug. 

“I’m here.” Tim sniffed as his tears leaked down his cheeks, “I’m here.”


	16. Wait and Hurry Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Content Warning: Author writes a fight scene. Also injuries.

Tim wanted to wait. Wanted to just be with his brother before bringing up another elephant in the room. But he had promised Cassie.

“Dick, where’s Damian?”

Dick wiped at his eyes and cleared his throat. “He’s upstairs with Alfie.”

Tim blinked.

“No, he’s not.”

“What?”

“I saw Alfred when I came in. I looked all over the Manor for you before I came down here. Damian wasn’t up there.”

Dick’s face morphed into horror. He raced over to the Bat computer and pulled up a tracker. It read as being in the Manor kitchen. Dick rang the intercom.

“Alfie? Is Damian up there with you?”

“Not at present,” Alfred replied, “Was he not with you downstairs?”

“ _Shit._ ”

“That’d be a ‘no’, Alfred,” Tim relayed as Dick started pulling up other screens. 

“I let my guard down for one fucking second,” Dick swore under his breath, “He was getting better about this. Fuck.”

Dick sent out an alert to Cass and Steph and Barbara’s phones. He started pulling up the police scanning app and set their searching algorithm sifting through social media images and street cams for Damian’s likeness.

“Do you really think someone would post about him? Or that he wouldn’t know to avoid the cameras?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know why he would leave.” Dick’s eyes bounced from each window to the next. Cass and Steph responded that he wasn’t with them. Barbara was starting her programs scanning for him.

“It’s almost dark. We could go look for him,” Tim gestured to the batmobile in the vehicle bay.

Dick nodded and started for the lockers, before pulling up short, “Are you okay to go out?”

“Not really,” Tim admitted, “But I don’t think I’d stay in, even if you left without me. Just, honestly speaking.”

Dick looked torn, but nodded. They suited up and set out. Cass and Steph signaled that they would likewise be heading out to help search. After a quick route through the major byways, Tim decided to split off and help case by rooftop. It took a bit to convince Dick, but the more time passed, the more worried he was getting.

Cass was checking around the penthouse apartment. Steph was trying all the different spots Damian had spent some time at around town. Mainly art shops and the zoo. Dick was going over the regular patrol routes.

Tim could see a blaring hole in their search pattern. No one was venturing near Crime Alley. Red Hood’s territory.

Tim sent Cassie a voicemail as he adjusted his heading.

“Hey, this is Robin. Remember how I promised to call if shit got bad? Well, I’m heading into Red Hood’s turf to look for a missing Brat-ssassin. So yeah. Figured that qualified. I’ll be careful. But, back-up wouldn’t be terrible.”

At the T-ship’s fastest Cassie could be in Gotham in twenty minutes if she took off immediately. Tim would be at Crime Alley in five. He planned to wait on the edge, do a perimeter search first, before diving in. Give Cassie and whoever else time to get there.

He had planned to. 

But as he landed on the rooftop of a project overlooking the edge of Red Hood’s claim, he spotted two figures off on another rooftop. One was tall, solidly built. The other was short and wielding a sword.

Tim still tried to wait. He clicked his suit’s beacon. Cass or Steph should only be four or so minutes out, Dick might even be closer if traffic wasn’t terrible.

But then a gunshot rang out. And the small figure jerked back with awful force.

Tim ran in, grappling as fast as he could.

  
  


Tim had a voice in the back of his head that, despite the desperate circumstances he was running headfirst into, was oddly amused. Of course it was Tim that had found Damian. And of course it was with Jason in the mix. Two of the people Tim would least like to be around in the whole world. There were a few other people above them on that list (Ra’s, Lex Luthor, Mad Hatter, Bane...) but not very many.

As Tim drew his bo staff and mentally shaped his next 10 moves, he noted that he wasn't sure who was currently higher on that list. He needed an honest-to-god metric for this now. So he could rank the siblings who had made an attempt on his life from most to least favorite. 

As Tim knocked Hood's feet out from under him and landed a kick to Damian's sword arm, he was tempted to rank them by number of murder attempts. But that would be skewed by how long Jason had been back and active in Gotham. 

Damian threw a shuriken at Tim's head. He dodged it and then had to duck away as Hood laid down a round of fire.

Maybe he'd rank them by annoyance. But they were pretty matched by that metric.

"What the fuck, Replacement?!" Hood roared, "You in with the fucking League now?"

"Hey! I don't like him just as much as I don't like you," Tim lobbed a flash grenade high above them. He used the seconds it stunned the two of them to close in on Damian. 

The kid was wearing bits and pieces of old Robin and BlackBat uniforms. Probably scrounged from the cave. Only his eyes were visible through a thick cloth mask. Altogether he looked very reminiscent of a league ninja. 

As he dodged Tim's hands and feet, Tim studied him. He certainly wasn't moving like he'd been shot. 

"You are the most useless person!" Damian spun away and repositioned his sword, "Get out of my way, Drake. Todd is mine."

"Who the fuck do you think you are?" Hood shouted as he closed in on them. 

"Hood," Tim ducked under a punch, "This is Dami-" Tim whipped his bo staff up to spoil Hood's aim. His gun went off and the bullet flew close enough to clip Damian's arm guard. "HE'S a fucking kid, Hood!"

Jason hesitated for a split second, and Damian lunged. His sword caught Hood across his chest and up through his shoulder. It didn't look deep- Hood had armor plating on. But there was a splatter of blood across the rooftop gravel all the same.

"You stupid-" Tim tackled Damian and rolled with him as gun fire erupted behind them. Tim used his momentum to fling Damian further back, but sacrificed his own speed to do it. 

Tim felt a bullet graze his left thigh, tearing into his suit. His armor did its job and distributed the force, so the round didn't punch a hole through his leg. No, it only felt like he'd been side swiped by a car.

Tim grit his teeth against the pain. "Would the two of you stop. FOR. FIVE. FUCKING. SECONDS?!"

"I didn't start this, Replacement." Hood drew and threw a knife that Damian only just managed to deflect.

"Yeah, no, I can see you're really being the mature one here!" Tim forced himself to move. He threw batarangs and Jason had to back up.

"You're both babbling like idiots," Damian sneered. He threw smoke pellets and disappeared into the screen of cover.

"You want to talk about idiotic? His helmet has heat vision!" Tim yelled as Jason charged into the smoke. "Also, the very fucking idea that attacking Hood is a good idea in the first place! What are you even trying to accomplish?"

There were a couple more shots fired and the sound of a sword blow being stopped by a metal object. Damian came flipping out of the smoke, sword no longer in his hands.

"If my father can no longer correct his mistakes himself, it falls to me to do so." Damian drew another, shorter blade from somewhere. "I wouldn't expect you, a failure and an interloper, to understand."

Hood sauntered out of the dissipating smoke screen. "What, I killed your old man or something, pipsqueak? Some league of assassins fucker?"

"He's B's son," Tim clarified before Damian could shout anything back. "And Talia's."

The rooftop was silent as Hood took a moment to look Damian up and down. It was really hard to tell anything about him under his cobbled-together suit and mask.

"So what happened to B?" Jason asked. "Why's his secret ninja love-child so set on offing me all of a sudden? He get his fucking back broken again?"

Tim knew he shouldn't be surprised. There hadn't been any news coverage at the battle. And the Justice League hadn't released any statement yet. There was really no way for Jason to know what had happened. 

Tim hesitated. He had no idea how Jason- how _Red Hood_ would react. Even after everything that had happened between them, Bruce still meant something to Jason. What that something was...tended towards triggering his more violent and vicious side.

Damian didn't know that, or just didn't care.

"My Father is dead." Damian readied his stance, "You will soon have that in common."

Tim watched in horror as Damian once again charged headlong at Hood. Tim couldn't get between them- not fast enough to stop a bullet-

Hood wasn't firing. Hood had _dropped_ his gun. Damian reached him and sliced viciously for his throat. Jason caught the blow with a raised forearm. Blood fell onto the gravel again.

Jason moved. In a second he had Damian disarmed and reeling, in another he had him pinned to the rooftop. Jason twisted Damian's arm behind his back, not even pausing as the kid's shoulder separated from its socket.

Damian rocked and pitched himself to gain leverage. He tried to swing at Hood with his free arm, but Hood caught the blow. 

Red Hood kept Damian pinned beneath him, and just starting wailing on him. 

Tim rushed him, grabbed at Jason's arms, tried to pull him off the kid. But it was like trying to shove a bridge cable. Jason didn't even react to Tim's attempts to move him. He was silently, violently focused on trying to put his fists _through_ Damian.

"Hood! Jay! JASON!"

Tim planted his feet, grabbed one hand in the other, and put his whole body weight into cracking his elbow across Red Hood's helmet. The blow sent Jason sprawling. Tim could see a dent left in the side of the helmet. He might've just fractured his own elbow with that strike.

But that didn't matter. Damian was laying still on the gravel. Tim knelt over him, but couldn't tell through the layers of armor and cloth he had on if he was okay. Tim pulled the mask away from Damian's mouth to check if he was still breathing. 

The kid let loose a high-pitched whine. He curled in on himself, face screwing up in pain. Tim exhaled with relief.

Red Hood groaned as he stumbled to his feet. Tim placed himself between them. 

Jason pulled and managed to yank the damaged helmet off his head. He turned towards Robin and Tim could swear he saw a flickering green light fade from Jason's eyes.

Jason just stood there, panting heavily as he kept his gaze fixed on Tim. He had a trail of blood leaking down from his hairline. On the same side that Tim had struck him.

After what felt like forever, Jason turned and stumbled his way to the roof's fire escape. He hauled himself over the edge, and disappeared down the platform.

Tim let out a shaky breath. His leg was trembling, his elbow throbbed, his stomach scars ached. A few seconds later, his comm came crackling back to life.

"-obin. Respond. Robin, respond. Robin, please respond- you've got a signal again? Robin!"

"Hey, Wondergirl."

"Don't ' _H_ _ey, Wondergirl_ ' me. What's going on? We're en route. Nightwing said he'd lost your GPS. What happened?"

Tim looked back at Damian. He was curled around himself, still making pained noises. Tim looked back towards where Jason had disappeared.

Tim sighed, “When the fuck did _I_ become the well adjusted one?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone who has left a comment and/or given kudos. They really keep me engaged and help me continue to bang out chapters. <3 <3 <3


	17. Speaking from Experience

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim and Steph being actual friends. I want it, so I write it.

Dick took Damian back to their apartment. After getting him checked over in the Cave. He had a lot of bruising, a couple fractured ribs, and a concussion. 

Cass and Steph finished patrol together. They got back in around 4am. Tim was still up, mostly still trying to make himself unpack.

"You look like shit," Steph announced as she walked into Tim's room. She made a bee-line for the bed and flopped face first onto it.

"You should see the other guy."

Steph laughed and rolled over. "Which one?"

Tim rolled his eyes, "Oh, you know, my sort-of sibling who has anger issues, ties to the league of assassins, and has made an attempt on my life."

"It is 100% fucked up that that doesn't narrow it down."

"You're telling me."

There was a lull. Steph idly sifted through the clothes Tim had dumped on the bed. Tim was still trying to decide where he was going to set up his PT gear. Did he want it to be in his room? Down in the Cave? Maybe he could take over one if the rarely used dens.

"So." Stephanie began. "You're moving back in. Want to talk about that? Or, y'know,  _ anything else _ that may have happened lately."

"Do you?"

" _ Yes! _ " Stephanie sat up, "I really really want to talk about Bruce. I want to know what's happening. No one seems to know what anyone else is doing. Fucking Dick just dragged Damian over here to the Manor this morning, and then lost him. Cass hasn't said  _ a single word _ . She's only signed about patrol. It's like we're back to months ago! Barbara's been tight lipped, but that's not exactly new. And then there's you!"

Steph gestured to the half unpacked room.

"What is all of this? Why didn't you call first? I get that shit's been royally knocked out of whack, but weren't you supposed to be recovering at Titans' Tower for at least another month? Are you here to help with funeral things, and then going back?"

"I'm not just here to attend a funeral." Tim snapped, "I came back because I knew everything here was and is going to completely devolve. Dick was, and might still be, thinking about putting on the cowl. Damian is obviously not handling normal life well, let alone the death of his estranged father. Who the fuck knows what Jason's going to do now that he knows. And that's not even going into what Gotham's going to do once they find out he's gone."

Tim shoved the PT gear into his closet.

"I can finish my recovery here."

"Can you?" Steph's tone was dripping in disbelief, "Because I could've sworn Robin was out there tonight, going toe-to-toe with Hood of all things."

"One or both of them would've died if I hadn't intervened."

"I'm not saying you didn't do the right thing," Steph sighed, "I'm saying you are exactly the person who does the right thing for everyone else, until it kills you."

"That's not fair." Tim marched over to her, "That is what. We. Do. That's the job. I didn't bench myself because the job got dangerous. I benched myself because I was suicidal. There's a difference. I didn't do anything tonight that you, or Cass, or Dick, or Bruce wouldn't have done. I wasn't suicidal tonight. I was a vigilante."

"And how clear cut is that?" Steph tilted her chin up. "How are you going to keep all of that straight now that Bruce is gone, and everyone here is falling to pieces?"

"I'm going to try!" Tim could feel his eyes getting misty. "I'm going to use all that coping and meditating and mental tricks I've scraped together and try to hold myself together. Just like I did before Bruce was gone. Because- because I'm not going to just sit at the Tower while everyone here implodes. This is my family. This is my city. He was my dad, too."

Steph had tears running down her cheeks. 

Tim took her hand in his and squeezed.

"I've got my own issues. And they've got deep pit falls. But I'm not going to- I can't sit this out. It's not going to be perfect. I'm sure things are going to get a thousand times messier before we all find any sort of stability again. I want to be here, I  _ need  _ to be here. I am sick to death of not being there when the people I love are breaking."

Steph nodded. She pulled Tim in and the two of them were wrapped in a tired, messy, teary and snotty hug.

"I can't believe he's just gone." Steph sobbed.

"Yeah," Tim hugged her tighter. "It never feels real. Not for a while."

"He loved us, right? Even us  _ not-his-actual  _ kids?"

Tim swallowed roughly, "Yeah. He loved us. He saved the world for us."

Because Tim had been there. In those earth shattering moments. He'd been there beside Bruce, side-by-side with Kon and Bart. Not in any of those final ones, but plenty of the times before. 

He knew that when it really came down to it. When the world, all life, reality itself was on the line, you didn't do it for the abstract idea of humanity. You didn't do it for the nebulous grand concept of the world. You did it for your friends, your family. You did it for the people you loved. 

Tim had lost some of those people. Those faces he thought of before he rose to stand against the monsters and the evil and the destruction. He hadn't managed to save  _ his  _ world. They had saved him.

"Oh my god, why do you reek?" Tim shoved Steph to arms length distance. "Did you not shower after patrol?"

"Tim, I'm grieving. I don't want to shower." Steph pouted.

"You didn't let me get away with that," Tim felt an odd jolt of vindication, "Go put your body under a stream of water. If you use soap I'll order take-out for breakfast tomorrow."

"Even tho Alfred will act all affronted about it?"

"I will do for you this favor," Tim pushed Steph towards the bedroom door. "Go perform minimal hygiene. It really helps in the long run. Trust me."

"I want to sleep in here with you tonight."

"You kick in your sleep."

"You snore." Steph raised her hands clasped together, "Please?"

"Fine. But now you absolutely have to use soap "

Steph gave him a watery chuckle. She filed off to the bathroom. Tim moved the pile of clothes off his bed and onto a chair. If he was honest with himself, that was about as put away as they were ever going to be.

He changed into pajamas and arranged his pillows to form a wall between him and where Steph's restless feet would soon be launching attacks from. 

He was asleep before Steph finished her shower. The muffled sounds of her singing drifting through the old walls, sending him gently off.


	18. Logistics of Grief(Life)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot less action and a lot more dialogue. Woo!

Tim took a moment to just breath in the steam rising from his coffee. He could feel a headache coming on, and his last hope was caffeine. 

The Justice League had just finished submitting everyone’s reports from Darkseid’s thwarted invasion. The Titans had as well. So now everyone was asking, without wanting to be the first person to ask, what they were supposed to do now.

The funding from Bruce’s offshore backdoor accounts was still being funneled to the League’s third party cover accounts. So the cash flow wasn’t the issue. 

No, it was emotional. People wanted to know when the funeral was going to be. The ones who only knew him as Batman, and those that knew the man as well. Which brought up the issue of when Bruce Wayne’s funeral would be. They had to do as much as they could to separate the two events, at least to the public. 

Which brought up how and when the League would let the public know that one of their founding members was deceased. And the fall-out there of. Rumors and speculation were already forming around superheroes people had watched go into the fight, and hadn’t seen since. A few had responded with public appearances; Beast-boy had posted a selfie from the Titan’s medical wing to reassure his followers. As more and more people were confirmed alive, it made those that hadn’t been, stand out.

It was already picking up momentum on social media. #WheresBatman was gaining traction.

“We should make the announcement.” Steph insisted, “We should be up there, all of us, showing people that Gotham still has protectors. The Justice League can handle the rest of the world, we need to keep Gotham from imploded as much as possible.”

Tim rubbed at his temple, “Have we heard back from Kate yet?”

Dick sighed, “She agreed to joining our communication channels and coordinating patrols, but adamantly refused any public appearances.”

Tim sighed, “So that would be Nightwing, Batgirl, BlackBat, and Robin on stage at a Justice League press conference. We would be front and center, but the League would also be literally backing us up. It’s not the worst show of force.”

“The rogues are going to riot,” Steph groaned, smooshing her face into her hands, “Arkham is going to burst at the seams.”

“I’m more worried about the ones already at large,” Dick grimaced, “We haven’t seen or heard anything from Ivy for a month. That’s never a good sign. And Penguin’s been amassing arms.”

“Not to mention what Black Mask and the other Mob Heads are going to try and pull.” Barbara added in. “They’re going to treat this like a power vacuum.”

“And then the police will respond with a disproportionate show of force, which will spark a response from the gangs.” Tim listed off.

“What if we have Clark impersonate him, just for a few weeks?” Steph voiced, “We take the time to really crack down on arms deals, find Ivy, reinforce the security at Arkham.”

“I don’t think that ruse will last weeks.” Tim sighed, “People would start to notice, and then we’d be in the worse position of faking Batman. Which makes the public lose faith in us. If anything it would undermine all of the good will we get from Batman dying as a martyr to save the planet. If we stick to the truth, public opinion will swing up for Batman, and us carrying on his mission. If we hide it and put it off, it will weaken the trust we’ve built.”

“Besides, if we could’ve made Arkham escape proof, we’d have done it by now.” Barbara concluded.

“So, tomorrow then, in front of the Hall of Justice. Are we agreed?” Dick asked.

Everyone nodded.

“Okay,” Dick rubbed at the back of his neck, “Now how are we going to break the news about Bruce Wayne?”

“He’s famously known for having dangerous hobbies.” Tim said, “We pick one that’s hard to investigate, wait a week or two after the Batman news breaks, and get to make our grief go public.”

“We don’t have a body for a casket.” Steph pointed out.

“So we’ll make it _really_ hard to investigate.” Barbara shrugged, “Or we come up with a stand in for a body. Neither are very hard.”

“When do we bring Damian into the picture?” Dick asked. “It’s got to be post Brucie’s death, otherwise it’ll look real suspicious why he won’t give an interview.”

“I don’t think we should bring Damian into the public eye,” Barbara said, “Not until we can protect him from Al Ghul retaliation. He’s been kept a secret for this long. It might be safer to keep him one for now.”

“You’ll need to adopt him, Dick,” Tim stated, “Once he’s public knowledge. Anything else will lead to schisms in inheritance and opportunist investigations into Bruce’s estate. If you adopt him, all lines of the Wayne fortune become stable and there’s less room for outside entities to pry.”

Everyone just stared at Tim.

“Or Cass would have to, if she’s an adult by then.”

Everyone looked at Cass who tilted her head to the side. Tim sighed.

“It’s a money thing. If a child out of wed-lock shows up after his rich father dies under mysterious circumstances- one that no adult is currently legally responsible for, then wouldn’t you start to wonder what’s going on over in the Wayne Manor? Maybe you’d be interested in an independent investigator going over the estate with a fine-tooth comb? We can’t afford that.”

Barbara nodded, “Better to spin it as a fluff piece about siblings finding each other after tragedy. The Wayne family presented as a united front.”

“Okay, Damian’s timeline put aside for now,” Dick sighed, “How are we handling patrol?”

“Are you going out tonight?” Steph asked Tim.

Tim took another long drink of coffee before responding.

“Yes, but not as a part of patrol.” Tim braced himself for their reactions, “I think I should go try to establish contact with Jason.”

“What?!” Three voices all responded.

Cass tilted her head to the other side, focusing more intently on Tim.

Tim sighed, “Hear me out. We need to at least _try_.”

“Not that I don’t see where you’re coming from,” Steph began, “Hood’s got a big chunk of Gotham under his control, he’s resourceful and has access to leads and informants we could only dream about. BUT ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR MIND?!”

“Steph-”

“He literally tried to kill you two days ago!"

“He was defending himself against Damian.”

“He literally tried to kill you several times before that.”

“Do _you_ want to try to talk to him instead?”

“Maybe!” Steph took a deep breath, “Yeah, actually, I do. I think Cass and I should be the ones to approach him. The rest of you come with too much baggage attached.”

Tim pressed his hands around his hot coffee mug, feeling the warmth seep into him. “You make a lot of sense. I’ll cover your patrols tonight.” Tim turned to Cass, “If that works for you?”

Cass gave him another once over. She tweaked one corner of her mouth up and nodded.

“It’s time I met last brother.” Cass said simply. “When not punching each other.”

“Then we have our plan?” Dick asked the room at large.

“Actually-” Tim started. Everyone else groaned. Steph threw her scrunchy at him.

“It’s the last thing, I promise,” Tim caught the scrunchy and began fiddling with it. “I actually wanted to talk about Damian….getting a cape.”

Barbara scoffed, “What, make him Robin or something?”

“That’s one of the ideas I had.”

Everyone stared at him.

“What?” Tim asked, defensively, “He’s got the physical skills. And we can’t spare the man-power it would take to surveil and contain him anymore. With Batman’s death being made public, we need all hands on deck. So rather than having him be a drain on our limited resources, why don’t we make him an asset. It’s kind of what he was sent here for.”

“I don’t think-” Dick began.

“No.” Cass said loudly. Everyone turned to her. She clenched her jaw, and signed along with her words. “ _Damian needs to unlearn violence first. He is too ready to kill. He does not feel the weight of it anymore. He needs to regain that weight._ ”

Tim sighed, “How are we going to make that happen? In the middle of everything else?”

“ _I had an idea_ ,” Cass held up her phone, “ _Asked other Cass for a favor. We send Damian to Themyscira. There he can learn violence with weight_.”

“When did you do that?” Dick asked.

Cass shrugged. “ _You are good for him. But he needs more than you can give. For now._ ”

“The Amazon’s are willing to take him in?” Steph asked, incredulous.

“Child. _Exception._ ” 

They all looked at each other.

Tim shrugged, “It would definitely put him out of Ra’s and Talia’s reach.”

“I don’t know if he’ll agree to it,” Dick frowned.

“ _I will convince._ ” Cass said. No one in the room doubted her.


	19. Stages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I reiterate, my canon now.

Tim didn’t doubt Cass. He was just worried that Damian would still react badly. So he was just, checking in. From the top of the staircase, quietly, and keeping out of sight.

Diana Prince’s car came rolling up the drive. Damian, Alfred, and Dick came out from the den. Damian had a small duffel bag slung across his shoulder. Alfred answered the door, and Tim saw Damian’s posture shift. He obviously knew how powerful and capable Diana was. He kept his body angled towards her, but his gaze cast down. Dick greeted Diana and offered her a hug. She pulled him off his feet. He laughed.

Cass came out of her room and headed past Tim’s hiding space. She raised an eyebrow at him, but he just shook his head. Cass rolled her eyes and continued past. She went to the front hall and approached Damian. He nodded to her and she pulled him into a quick hug. Damian went rigid, but didn’t lash out.

Diana greeted everyone, ending at Damian. She held out her hand towards him. Damian hesitated, but then shook it quickly. Diana smiled at him. She escorted him outside, and Dick followed them out.

A few minutes later, the car was pulling back out of the drive, and Dick was back inside. Tim let out the breath he had been holding, and joined his family downstairs.

“I do hope we have made the right decision,” Alfred commented dryly, staring at the front doors.

“It will be good,” Cass nodded firmly.

Dick and Alfred split off, but Tim kept Cass behind.

“I have to know. How did you convince him?”

Cass smiled and shrugged. “Not hard. I just explained.”

Tim gave her a look.

Cass laughed, “Explained was not like what Talia did. Not a punishment or test. Not sent away, sent  _ to _ . A gift. A place to heal and recover. Like you, with Titans. He tried to not look, not be, interested. He feels jealousy towards you. Wants what you have.”

Tim felt a pang in his chest, “What, the Robin title?”

Cass shook her head. “He wants to be loved. He can't admit. But he sees you, sees love towards you. And he wants it. Starved. Like I was. Different, but same.”

“Oh,” Tim felt it was so obvious, now that Cass had just said it. 

Cass leaned forward and kissed Tim on the cheek, “Very loved.”

Tim blushed, “Yeah. Spoiled with it.”

Cass crinkled her nose. “Spoil me now.”

“Okay,” Tim grabbed her hand and led her towards his room. He had a snack stash brought home from the Tower that needed depleting.

-’;;’-

Kate was ready back in Gotham, with Barabra and Alfred as support. The press conference was under an hour away. Nightwing, Batgirl, BlackBat, and Robin were at the Hall, going over the last details. Mainly, choosing who would be standing where during the address. Diana wasn’t back yet, and J’onn was away on a mission, but the other Founders were milling about. 

Tim was mentally going over the speech. He wasn’t even the one delivering it. But his mind needed something to focus on. He shook his head and cast his eyes around the room. Surely he could keep himself occupied for twenty more minutes. And no, he was pretty sure running worse-case-scenario simulations in his head wasn’t helpful.

Clark stuck out to him, but he couldn’t immediately put his finger on why. But then he watched him fidget in place. Something he’d never seen Clark do much before. He also seemed to be floating in place. He  _ looked  _ like he was just standing, but Tim could recognize the shift in balance. Kon used to do it all the time.

Tim went over to him.

“Hey, Superman.”

Clark looked surprised to be approached, but offered a smile, “Hey, Robin. How are you holding up?”

Tim shrugged, “It’s not the worst day I’ve ever had.”

Clark grimaced, “No, I guess not.”

“Are you okay?”

Clark raised an eyebrow.

“You’re floating.”

Clark’s other eyebrow went up, “How did you know?”

Tim tried for a small smile, “Kon. He used to do that when he was bored. Or anxious. Or excited. Actually, he did it for almost anything now that I’m saying it out loud-”

Clark laughed. An actual, real laugh. “Did he really? I try to avoid it. But I’m still a little sore from the whole invasion. Being a little weightless helps. I’m not really that used to, well,  _ being  _ sore.”

“Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine. I’m just being a baby about it. I’m sure everyone else here deals with worse from sitting in a chair too long. I just don’t have much tolerance built up.”

“That’s- really weird to think about.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Clark smiled, “But enough about me, how’re you doing? Everything ready for the conference?”

“Yeah, we’re all set. Do you know who’s going to be here from the Daily Planet?”

“An intern. I don’t even know which one. I don’t think anyone out there is expecting this to be as big of an announcement as it’s going to be.”

Tim nodded. He looked back over the room. Wally and Dick were chatting quietly over by Dinah and Ollie. Steph and Cass were showing John something on their phones, and pointedly avoiding showing Hal.

“You know,” Clark said softly, his voice only loud enough for Tim to hear, “Ma and Pa mentioned the other day that they missed hearing from you. If any of you Gothamites need a break, or a place to escape to, they’d love to see you.”

Tim felt a weight settle in his chest. “That... might be a good idea.”

Clark nodded. He gave Tim another smile before walking away. Tim watched him go, a familiar ache rising up to the surface of his thoughts. He hadn’t been to Kent farm since dropping off Kon’s things. Going back would be hard, but it might also be nice. Especially if he brought Cass and Steph along. He wondered if Krypto was still there, or if he’d gone back to living at the Fortress of Solitude.

The warning timer went off. They all shuffled out of the Hall, heading for the stage outside. Tim forced his thoughts into order, and took his place beside Cass. John was opening the conference, all of the cameras were on, the mics were primed. Dick stepped up to the stand.

Batman was gone, and now the world knew it too.

-’;;’-

There was a riot at Arkham. Ten guards and staff were injured. Three patients escaped. The Riddler, Harley Quinn, and Clayface all vanished in the chaos. The rest of the inmates were returned to their cells by dawn. 

There was an uptick in petty crimes. Muggings mostly. But none ended fatally. 

All-in-all, it wasn’t the immediate disaster they had feared. But the other players were the ones who tended to be slower to act. The mobs, the gangs, Penguin. They would all accelerate their operations. Just because they hadn’t made a move on the first night, didn’t mean they would stay quiet.

Tim got in from patrol late. But even after showering and running through his cool down routines, he couldn’t fall asleep. So he pulled up old files, current files, anything to try and get his brain to relax. He was scrolling through the JL reports on the Darkseid invasion when a thought came to the forefront of his mind.

What had injured Superman?

The question had been buzzing in the back of his mind all day. He pulled up Clark’s report of the invasion and began reading. There were only so many things that could hurt a Kryptonian. Red Sun radiation made him weak and vulnerable, Kryptonite did the same and also poisoned him, and magic seemed to bypass his super-invulnerability. 

Superman had engaged Darkseid in a melee. But his reports didn’t include anything about injuries from that. No, he specifically noted that he was hurt when struck by an Omega beam. The same beams that had disintegrated Bruce. But that didn’t….if the beams were lasers or even high power plasma, they still shouldn’t have hurt Clark. 

So the Omega beams had to be either Red Sun energy, Kryptonite, or magic. At least in part. But Clark hadn’t mentioned in his report any issues with his powers working (so not Red Sun) and he hadn’t noted any poisoning (so not Kryptonite). Which left magic.

But that didn’t-

Tim rubbed at his eyes. He was close to 26 hours without sleep at that point. He was tired. Just because the Omega beams were some kind of magic didn’t mean anything. It didn’t mean they weren’t just a magical disintegration spell or effect. It didn’t mean anything for certain.

But that meant nothing about them was certain. If it was magic- maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was some other form of radiation that Clark just didn’t know he was vulnerable to. Maybe it was a weird particle form of Kryptonite. 

Maybe Tim should go to sleep.

Tim shut down his laptop and flopped backwards on his bed. He pulled his blankets over him and buried his face into his pillows. It was late. He needed sleep. His thoughts were racing all over the place. Things would make more sense in the morning with caffeine and food.

Tim couldn’t fall asleep. He tried. But one thought wouldn’t let him drift off. It was crazy, it was insane, it was textbook levels of denial and bargaining.

Tim groaned, sat up and threw off his blankets. He grabbed his laptop and shoved his feet into his slippers before storming out of his bedroom. He had energy drinks stored in the Cave. Which had better access to the Justice League databases. 

Tim spared a thought to how missing a whole night of sleep would disqualify him from patrol tomorrow night. He didn’t care. He had work to do. Even if it just led to nothing. He had to know. He had to check and double check and triple check.

The bats were chittering as they returned to the Cave. The sun was just beginning to rise outside. Tim sat himself down at the bat-computer and started a new investigation file.

Case Name: Bruce Wayne, Deceased (?)


	20. Denial (Hope)

Tim kept his investigation quiet. He had no proof. He was still half convinced this whole search was an extension of his grief; denial and bargaining. And he didn't want to get anyone's hopes up, just to have nothing to show for it later.

So he kept his work secret, obscure.

He sent Clark a message through the Justice League's system asking for clarifications on his invasion report. Clark responded, and it confirmed Tim's initial analysis. No evidence of Kryptonite nor red sun effects.

Next, Tim scoured Hal and John's reports, sending additional requests for any more information they or their rings had about Darksied. Their responses were pretty scarce. 

Tim sends the same request to Jamie, but his beetle knew even less than the Lanterns.

Tim wasn't hoping for much. No new information just left him at his current hypothesis. 

Working theory: Darksid's Omega Beams contained some element of magic. 

Tim felt his thoughts spiraling. There were too many things, too many outcomes to consider. There was no way, short of hopping over to Apocalypse and asking the mad alien himself, to concretely figure out what magic effects the Omega Beams had. 

They could've done an infinite number of things. Teleportation, eradication, disintegration. Bruce could've been shrunk to atomic size, he could've been trapped in a pocket dimension. He could've been shifted into another plane of existence.

It was impossible to know.

So Tim stopped focusing on what would be impossible to prove, impossible to confirm. And he began looking for what would be possible. He began running through the options that still left Bruce alive, traceable, and savable.

Because if he wasn't alive, traceable, and savable, then it wouldn't be any different from him being dead. 

So, alive.

Tim sent out requests to Dr. Fate, Zatana, Zatara, Constantine, Traci, and Queen Mera. If any of them could confirm Bruce was dead, that his soul had really shuffled off his mortal coil, then Tim's search would be concluded. And he could put this whole wild theory behind him.

Mera spoke with him at length about the limitations of her magic. She was a manipulator of the elements, not an oracle.

Constantine never responded to his inquiries. Probably busy. He always was.

Zatana and Zatara both offered to perform a seance, which Tim agreed to. Unfortunately, it turned up very little. Which they both assured him didn't mean much. It was very rare to actually contact a spirit that had passed on. Again, it didn't prove anything, and didn't disprove anything.

Dr. Fate never returned his call. Probably busy. It was hard to tell with him.

Traci agreed to lead Tim through a few different readings. Cards, bones, pendulums, tea leaves, none of it came back conclusive. Or rather half of the readings indicated death, and half didn't. 

Traci cautioned taking too much from any of them. She could see Tim was struggling with Bruce's death. 

"Zatana told me you asked her for a seance." Traci brought up, "And now all these readings. Tim, is something going on?"

Tim sighed and then coughed. The incense they'd lit was heavy in the air.

"I'm following a lead. Or- not a lead. A theory? It's not very concrete. That's why I was hoping for some solid answers."

Traci nodded, "Magic's not very good at solid answers. I'm sorry I couldn't give you a better result. I know this isn't an easy time, an easy thing."

"It's not. And I'm trying to keep this quiet. I really don't have anything even remotely close to proof. So I'd rather not, you know, jump into a crack theory while everyone's dealing with their grief."

"What is your theory?"

"Magic."

Traci raised an eyebrow, "...that's it?"

Tim sighed, "Yeah. It's not a lot."

"It's not even a sentence," Traci tried for a smile. "Are you still seeing Dinah?"

"I am."

"And you told her about your less-than-a-theory?"

"A little. I'm-" Tim knew how lacking his investigation was. He knew how it sounded. "I'm trying to keep my doubt and my hope on an even scale. I know all about denial. I know grief. I know how quickly it can get away from you. So I'm trying to keep balance."

"Okay." Traci nodded, "You can talk to me about it, you know. If you find better answers, or even if you don't. I wouldn't mind."

Tim smiled, "I'll let you know what I find. But still, on the down low."

"I can keep a secret."

Alive proved unprovable. So, traceable.

Tim set to work. He ran worldwide searches through databases of John Does, looking for anyone that might match Bruce. He searched through unidentified bodies found since the invasion, again looking for possible Bruce matches. He ran algorithm after algorithm through every available security footage he could access. He set out every electronic net he could to find any trace of Bruce.

Nothing came back positive. A few hundred possible matches pinged every day, but with Tim's manual reviewing they all ended up false.

Tim expanded his net. For text and reports of people that might be Bruce. Art, photos, posts that might mention someone of his build, his appearance, his image.

The search results had Tim slogging through piles and piles of vague, but ultimately unpromising results. 

Until his algorithms brought him an image from a museum's virtual tour page.

Bruce had been struck while in the Batsuit, so Tim had included that in his search parameters, including the bat symbol from on his chest. Which led to Tim finding out just how many different types of illustrated bats were very, very close to Batman's symbol. It was a lot. 

But this result seemed….different. Tim hesitated to delete it like the several hundred other false results he'd already sorted through.

For one thing, the symbol carved onto the rock featured in the museum's early art exhibit was exactly Batman's symbol. Exactly the right proportions. 

And for another thing, it looked nothing like the other carvings and painting featured in the exhibit. It was modern, sleak. Bold straight lines and even depth. Tim flipped through the other images in the virtual tour. They were all more jagged, more varied. And none of the other pieces featured a bat at all, while at the same time featuring many other repeating animal figures.

The museum described the bat symbol carving to be dated to around 30,000 years ago.

Tim flagged the result as positive and stored it to the investigation file. 

It might be nothing. He'd been staring at results, sifting through results for weeks now. He might look at the next day and decide to delete it, just like all the other results.

But, for now at least, it brought a new theory to the forefront. It was crazy, nearly impossible to prove. But now it had one tiny shred of probability.

Time travel.

Tim knew that should sound weirder to him than it did. But he lived in a world of magic and aliens and demigods and much, much weirder things.

Time travel really wasn't that crazy.

He hoped.


	21. Hold, Lie, Promise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The canon, it is mine.

"You're certainly taking a deep dive into...classical art?"

Tim expected that sooner or later someone would look into him and what he’d been doing. Maybe using the Wayne Foundation sponsored art gallery and fund for the arts to get better access to artifacts hadn’t been the quietest way to go about things. 

“I don’t make fun of your hobbies, Dick.”

“ _Is_ this a hobby of yours?” Dick sat down next to Tim at the window bench of the library. Tim had been working on homework, so there wasn’t anything to subtly hide on his computer screen. But if Dick knew about the art works he’d been amassing, then he probably looked into the other things he’d been collecting.

“Tangentially.” Tim responded. He wasn’t ready for this. He wasn’t ready yet. He was still collecting leads, he wasn’t even onto evidence yet.

“Tangentially to what?”

“Our late night hobby,” Tim shrugged. God. He wasn’t going to shake Dick with short answers. He was just going to make him more suspicious. Why was it that he could lie so effortlessly at school, or on patrol, but not when talking to Dick? It was so unfair.

Dick gave him a look over, “Care to tell me which case? It’s not flagged in anything active.”

Tim weighed his options. He could (1) tell Dick everything. Let him know his doubts about Bruce’s death and bring him into Tim’s little world of grief put on pause and no concrete evidence anywhere in sight. He could also (2) deflect and shut Dick out. Possibly hurting him with his cagey-ness and worrying him about Tim and his mental well being.

“It’s a personal project. And it’s not really ready for, uh,” Tim calmed his breathing, "For public consumption yet.”

Dick’s face showed a flash of hurt before carefully masking it. Tim felt it like a punch to the gut. He hated hurting Dick. Even if it was the lesser of two hurts. He felt sick.

“Ok. Sorry I bugged you about it. If you need help though-”

“I’ll ask for it. I promise.”

Dick let the topic drop. 

Tim moved up his time table. He’d managed to secure a few artifacts in Gotham, enough to start identifying patterns. The Bat symbol was a recurring motif, but there were other elements. Sometimes they were accompanied by a person with bat features. Sometimes the entries had text attached or associated, which alluded to a menacing dark-clad figure. 

But he didn’t have enough data. The pieces he’d managed to gather were so scattered across history it was impossible to draw any true conclusions from them. He needed more. He needed to get to artifacts he couldn’t move to Gotham. 

He needed to go and find them.

Tim knew that taking off on a sudden globe trotting expedition was going to raise red flags for everyone. Especially when he wouldn’t be able to explain why. 

So he could either lie, on a much larger and face-to-face scale than he ever wanted to with his family, or he could tell them the truth.

And if he told them the truth, there was the chance they would try to stop him.

Tim felt trapped. He couldn’t just let this go. _Something_ was bouncing around history, leaving traces of Batman across time. There was a chance, a real and small and heartbreaking chance that it was Bruce. His _dad._

Tim would tell them the truth. If he had to hurt them, he’d rather it be with the truth. And if they tried to stop him, Tim had contingencies. He had money stashed away and separate from the Batman accounts. He had safe houses that were secrets from everyone. He could go it alone if it absolutely came down to it.

He really really _really_ hoped it didn’t.

Tim called a family meeting. He also called Cassie. It felt like an all-or-nothing task. Either he would convince them, or he wouldn’t. But he couldn’t stand the idea of having to do it in pieces.

He also invited Dinah. He had kept so much of what he was doing as vague as possible with her. Tim felt she deserved the whole truth. Even if she would take the weeks-long obfuscations as negative signs. And that, in turn, might make it harder to convince them all.

Alfred prepared snacks and everyone gathered in the Manor by six the next evening.

“Okay, Timmer,” Steph threw an arm around his shoulders, “This is everyone, yeah? What’s up? I’m like, super not freaking out, but kinda sorta super freaking out here.”

There were a few nods to match her words. Tim took a deep breath. Well, this was it.

“I think there is a small, tiny, barely there, but-I-believe-still-worth-looking-into, _possibility..._ ” Tim took another deep breath, “...that Bruce is alive.”

Tim watched his words strike them. Dick looked sucker punched. Steph’s arm went stiff around him. Alfred’s face had gone pale. Barbara was gripping the arms of her chair with white knuckles. Cassie was looking at him with pity. Dinah had her professional mask in place, but her body posture was instantly more alert. Cass was staring at him with confusion set deep in her brow.

“What?”

“Tim-”

“What?!”

“Tim?”

Tim stepped away from Steph and held up his hands, “I know. I _know._ I know how it sounds. I know how it sounds coming from _me._ But I have a whole file, I’ve been working on this like a case. I noticed an anomaly about the Omega beams from Superman’s reports and that just sort of….spiraled into theories. And I know- I _know_ even if I’m right, even if something happened other than Bruce dying the second the beams hit him, it doesn’t mean he’s alive. I know. I _know_ this sounds crazy. But I-”

Tim knew he had tears in his eyes. He saw everyone else see them. He felt them burn. His chest felt tight. He felt the panic rising.

He was crazy. This whole theory was crazy. Why was he doing this? Why was he ripping into everyone’s grief like this? He had no proof. He had no solid leads. He had random iconography, that could be nothing more than coincidence, forced together in a haphazard plea to the universe that somehow his dad wasn’t dead-

Cass had moved in front of him. She held out her arms. Tim leaned forward, almost just on instinct, and Cass wrapped him in a tight hug.

“Be quiet. In your head. Stop hurting my brother.”

Tim sniffed and buried his face in Cass’s shoulder. “I’m sorry-”

“No,” Cass pulled back and held him at arm’s length. She stared directly into his eyes, “You believe. I see you. You believe what you found. I believe _you_.” 

Tim couldn’t stop the tears leaking down his face.

“Uh- I’d like to know more about what weird theory you’ve come up with,” Steph voiced, “But, it’s you. Either this theory is utter horse crap, or it’s the most brilliant thing anyone’s ever figured out.”

Tim blinked back his tears.

Dick spoke up, “Is this what all the art collecting was about?”

Tim nodded, “It’s a part of it.”

“Oh, thank god,” Dick let out a breath, “I thought you were like, setting your affairs in order. Or gift giving, like pre-suicide stuff. I was trying not to panic.”

“Sorry,” Tim wiped at his face, “I was trying not to worry you.”

“Why not just tell us what you were working on?” Barbara asked.

Tim looked at the ground, “I have no proof. Even after weeks, _no_ evidence. Just more theories. I didn’t want to tell anyone because I didn’t want to get anyone’s hopes up. I only came forward about it now because I have to leave Gotham. I’ve got a few leads, but they’re scattered around the world.”

Tim found Cassie’s eyes, “I didn’t want to lie about why I was leaving.”

“That’s really mature, Tim,” Dinah spoke up, “It sounds like you’ve been shouldering a lot.”

Cassie closed her eyes, exhaled, and set her jaw. 

“I’m coming with you.”

Tim felt something in his chest ease. “Really?”

“Of course,” Cassie crossed the room and put her hand on Tim’s shoulder, “Like I’d let you go globe trotting without me. Whether this is a crazy goose chase or the real deal, I’m not going to lose you. So, you’re stuck with me.”

“It- it might take a while.” Tim implored, “Like, months. I’ve already been working on this for weeks now.”

Cassie pouted, “My mom might object to me being gone for months on end. But, still.”

“We can do shifts,” Steph spoke up. She nudged Tim’s arm with her elbow, “You know I’ve always wanted to go to Europe. Is there a lead in Europe? I call dibs on Europe.”

Cass nodded, “Shifts. We won’t leave you doing this alone.”

Tim felt new tears sliding down his cheeks. He looked around at everyone else. Dick was smiling at him, relief still clear in his expression. Barbara had a grimmer set to her face, but she nodded. Dinah gave him a small smile.

Alfred still looked pale.

“Alfred?” 

Tim stepped around people and over to him. Alfred had the empty silver serving tray in his grip against his side. His gloved hand looked tense as he held it. His eyes were watching Tim, but they had a very far away look to them.

Alfred cleared his throat.

“I understand that the circumstances are vastly different,” Alfred began, his voice an uneasy tone Tim had never heard before. “But there was once a time when a young man under my care was consumed with grief and went off on a journey around the world to find solutions. I almost lost him, to the dangers of the world, to his grief. I almost lost him without ever knowing it.”

Tim nodded. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”

“I know you will,” Alfred frowned, “I daresay it goes without saying. For all the crazy and miraculous events that have transpired since the day he first put on that costume, I have known to never put anything past Master Bruce. If he is still…. _alive_ , then I know you will return him to us. I simply must ask a very selfish thing of you. Before I can give this endeavor my blessing.”

Tim nodded.

Alfred set the tray down on the table and turned to Tim. He knelt down on one knee, so that he was just slightly looking up at Tim. He put his hands on Tim’s shoulders, but then moved them down to grasp Tim’s hands.

“I ask that you promise me, my dear boy, that if events turn dire, and the choice is put before you- a choice between either Master Bruce or yourself returning to us- that you choose yourself.”

Tim gripped Alfred’s hands tightly. He clenched his jaw.

Alfred squeezed his hands back, “I know I am asking a selfish thing. I am making one of those choices a person should not. But I implore you, Master Bruce has already made _his_ choice. He chose to protect us, to protect the world. If you can find him and return him without sacrifice, then I will be forever grateful. But I adamantly _refuse_ to trade you for him.”

“Alfie-” Dick’s voice broke.

Alfred kept his gaze on Tim’s face, locked with his teary eyes. Tim blinked past the water as it blurred his vision. 

“O-okay.” Tim croaked, “Okay. I promise. I promise, Alfred.”

“Thank you, Master Tim.” Alfred stood back up. Tim pulled him into a hug and Alfred held him.

There would be time to go over specifics, to plan art tours and site visits, and travel plans. There would be time to review his preliminary findings and get them checked over by fresh eyes. There would be time to continue his search.

For now, Tim just let himself be held.


	22. To Go

“So, Tiiiiiiim…”

Tim sighed, “So, Steeeph…?”

Steph laughed and sat down next to him on the sofa, “So, you know how we have to be at the airport in like, five hours?”

“Yeah.” Tim kept typing on his laptop.

“And like, you're already packed and locked and loaded and really we’re just killing time now?”

Tim paused in his typing, “I'm doing some case work, but sure. We've got some time.”

Steph cleared her throat, “Well, I just got the darndest message. Asking if you had a sec before we’re wheels up and gone for who knows how long. Shouldn’t take super long.”

Tim waited for her to continue. She didn’t.

“Steph, what? Who or what do you need me for?”

Steph bit her lip and then sighed, “Okay. I’m just gonna come out and say it- don’t shoot the messenger.”

Tim closed his laptop and turned to face her.

Steph took a deep breath, “Jason wants to talk to you. In person. Like he’s waiting at the diner on Fifth and Main.”

Tim just blinked at her.

“...why?”

“He wouldn’t elaborate.” Steph held her hands out and open, like she was waiting for something more. “Just texted me. Asked to meet you at the diner. Promised he wasn’t in a shoot-y mood.”

Tim could feel his shoulders tensing at the very idea of going to go see Jason. He hadn’t physically seen him since that night on the roof with Damian. He knew Cass and Steph had managed to strike up a truce with Jason. And that they kept in semi-regular contact. But this was the first time Jason had mentioned anything about contacting any of the rest of them.

“Do  _ you _ think I should go?”

Steph just shrugged, “I think it’s a super big breakthrough on the Jason front. I also can’t guarantee that this isn’t some trap or a power play. But if you do want to go, I’m going with you.”

Tim thought about it. Thought about all of the ways it could indeed be a trap. And even if it wasn’t- what did Jason want with him? Why now? Why in a public setting? If he didn’t go, all the unknowns were just going to haunt him in the back of his mind.

“Okay.” Tim sighed and set his laptop aside, “Let’s go have lunch with a zombie.”

The diner was fairly well packed for the lunch hour. Jason was at the table closest to the kitchen door. He was in casual wear, sporting a different leather jacket than his Red Hood attire. Tim could tell he had at least one gun strapped to his chest under it. His hair was also styled up, and he was wearing sunglasses. It was enough of an effort to disguise his regular appearance without standing out in the crowd.

Tim felt over dressed in his blazer jacket. He had a tee-shirt on under it, and jeans and sneakers, but still. He would take it off if it wasn’t where he was storing his collapsed bo-staff and bird-a-rangs. Steph was rocking her sweater dress and leggings. Her dress was just baggy enough to hide her triple-staff where it was folded.

Tim and Steph approached Jason’s table. He nodded to them and they sat on the opposite side. Before they could say anything the waitress came up. Steph ordered a round of appetizers.

They sat in silence for a few moments, the chatter of the restaurant surrounding them.

“Um,” Tim spoke up, “I have no idea what you want to talk about. So, if you do want to talk, you’re gonna have to start us off.”

Jason lifted one eyebrow. “Really? No idea?”

Tim shared a look with Steph and she shrugged.

“I also have no idea,” Steph put in, “If that helps.”

Jason sighed, “You and Cass said Replacement was leaving tonight to go search the globe for traces of possibly-not-dead Bruce.”

“Well, yeah.”

Jason glared. “You think I don’t want to be kept in the loop on that?”

“We are going to keep you in the loop,” Steph said. “Cass and I will pass along any updates we have. Just like we have been.”

“Oh, I’m sure,” Jason shifted his glare back to Tim. “And it’s your big idea to head out of Gotham right now.”

Tim shared another glance with Steph. “Uh, yeah. We have to go to a lot of different museums and historical sites. That’s the whole plan.”

Jason glared at him a while longer. The waitress came by with their food. Steph dug in, but Tim and Jason kept staring at each other.

Eventually Tim broke the silence.

“Look, is that all you wanted? To check if you had the right date and knew our itinerary?” Tim asked.

Jason sighed and rolled his eyes. He leaned back in his chair and glanced around the diner.

“No. I got a tip. Or more like a few tips. Some chatter,” Jason took a nacho chip and chewed it slowly before continuing. “The League’s getting restless. They know the fucking demon brat’s not in Gotham. Their shell companies have been circling Wayne Enterprises. Just figured you should know what you’re walking into, flying closer to their home turf.”

Tim took a deep breath. The League of Assassins had been oddly quiet following Bruce’s ‘death.’ They hadn’t made any overt moves so far, but that usually just meant something worse was in the works for later.

“Anything more specific?” Tim asked.

Jason rolled his eyes, “It’s not exactly like I’m a card carrying member anymore.”

“Jay,” Steph said gently.

Jason sighed again, “No, nothing more specific. There’s a rift between those loyal to Talia and those loyal to Ra’s, but I don’t know very much about the who, where, and what.”

“Okay.” Tim nodded, “Thanks. For the heads up. We’ll be on guard.”

“Whatever,” Jason stood up from his chair, “Well, this has been fun. Got to run. Oh- one more thing.”

Jason stepped around the table and grabbed Tim’s lapel. He hauled him up out of his chair, his face inches from Jason’s. Steph stood up too, stance ready.

“I don’t care what weird fucking shit B’s stepped in this time.” Jason hissed in Tim’s face. “I don’t care what alien magic or other time-traveling whatever the fuck this ends up being. Under absolutely _no_ fucking circumstances will you use a pit on him.”

Tim could see it again, that dull green glow, almost backlighting Jason’s irises. 

“I wouldn’t.” Tim stated evenly, “ _ Ever. _ I promise.”

Jason held him there for another second, eyes searching Tim’s. Then he dropped him, turned, and exited out the kitchen door. 

Steph grabbed Tim’s shoulder. He gave her a small smile.

“Well, I think that went pretty okay. He didn’t even shoot at me.”

“Yeah, nothing like clearing low hurdles.” Steph motioned over her shoulder, “Everyone’s staring at us.”

Tim gave the kitchen door another glance. “I’m good to bail. You?”

Steph looked back at the table full of appetizers, “To go?”

“They are really good nachos.”


	23. Hold Out For

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ends in a cliff hanger. I'll try to be quick with the next update.

Tim was frustrated. It had been three weeks of back to back to back travel. He’d flown all over Europe and visited more museums than he’d ever done in his life up to that point. Doubled. He’d broken into private collections, back-of-house warehouses, even into black market store houses to find relic after artefact after object of historic importance. He had dozens more data points. But he wasn’t any closer to answering his original question.

_Was Bruce alive?_

Cassie was with him now, both of them retiring for the night at their hotel room in Rome. Tim was pacing around, mentally reviewing the chart of dates they’d collected.

“Tim, maybe it’s time to give it a rest for tonight,” Cassie spoke up, “Maybe take a hot shower? Actually eat the room service we ordered?”

Tim shook his head. He felt unsettled, untethered. He had three times the amount of results that he’d had when he left Gotham, but he wasn’t any closer to an answer.

“Tim?”

“It’s still just circumstantial.” Tim said aloud, “There’s no hard proof that it’s actually Bruce doing all this time traveling. It could be an image of him that was somehow...blasted back through human consciousness. All of the pieces we’ve found are second hand at best. Artist renderings, impressions, pieces inspired by nothing more than an image or an idea. We can’t know for certain that it’s actually _him._ ”

“Will pacing for ten more minutes change that?” Cassie asked.

Tim sighed, “...no.”

“Will not eating change that?”

“No.”

“Then, since it can’t hurt things, how about we sit and eat.” 

Tim scrubbed his hands over his face. He turned around and saw Cassie holding a chair out for him.

“Cass, you don’t have to-”

“Your seat, Signore,” Cassie gestured dramatically.

Tim laughed and shuffled over to the small table. Their room service was laid out on it, bread and soup and sodas. Cassie slid Tim’s seat in for him as he sat, and then draped his napkin around his neck for him.

“Cass, fuck off,” Tim griped with a smile, shoving her away before she could tie the napkin.

“You fuck off,” Cassie nudged Tim’s chair as she walked by him. She gave him a smile before settling into her own chair. “You’ve been pacing for an hour. Normally I wouldn’t interrupt you, but this is the third night in a row that you’ve ignored the food while it’s still hot. Talk to me.”

Tim scrunched the napkin in his hands. He looked from it to the food on the table, up to Cassie. She raised one eyebrow.

“It’s- it’s still the same thing. From yesterday and the day before and the day before that. We’re getting more confirmed points of batman-inspired iconography, but we’re not getting anything beyond that. If there was, some kind of direct source artefact. Like a recorded conversation, or a photograph, or even some legend or account of this bat-like man that was more than just his image. Like a folk tale about him doing something, or a myth about him doing something, or even just an account of him doing something. Existing beyond just...an image.”

Cassie nodded, “You said the data points were beginning to show a pattern, right?”

Tim shrugged, “Maybe? But we don’t know what gaps between artefacts are truly indicative of Bruce being absent from that chunk of history, or if there were artefacts, but they’ve been lost to time. We can infer from the positive presence, but not the absence. Because we can’t know for certain it’s a true absence.”

“But what does it show, as far as a pattern can be formed from what we do have?”

Tim took a minute to arrange his thoughts, “There’s a sequencing in the dates, which is easier to track in the more modern findings because we have more certain dates for them. Just looking at the points in time we have, they are becoming more and more frequent the closer to present day they get. But again, that could be observation bias, because more recent findings have had less time to be lost or destroyed.”

“What about location?” Cassie asked as she sipped her soda, “Any pattern there? 'Cause to me it seems to be all over the place.”

“It really does seem completely random, and that’s not even taken into account that some of these pieces have a wide range of an area they could have originally been from.”

Cassie nodded, “So what’s our next stop?”

Tim shrugged and pulled his phone out. He squinted at the schedule.

“Iraq. It’s a current dig. Preliminary results from the site mention an ‘odd bat-shaped object’.”

Cassie hummed, “How are we going to get into an active dig site? Are we going stealth-mode at night? Disguises during the day? My Arabic isn’t very good.”

Tim pulled up his files on the site and scrolled through them. A name stuck out.

“Huh.”

“What?”

Tim blinked, “I think- I think I could just walk in and ask to see the site.”

“Who? You as Robin? You as _Tim?_ ”

“The head coordinator of the dig is an old family friend.” Tim pulled up a photo, “Dr Miller Thaddeus. My parents worked with him for years before my mother’s death. I met him once at one of the Drake Industry Galas.”

“That’s… a lot.” Cassie reached across the table and took Tim’s free hand in hers, “Would you _want_ to go introduce yourself as Tim Drake to an old friend of your parents? I mean, we could just stealth in at night.”

“I don’t know,” Tim felt the food in his stomach churn, “God, this is super weird isn’t it? That after everything, here I am off traveling the world in search of rare artefacts. Doing….doing what they did.”

“I mean, it’s not exactly what they did. But, yeah. It’s a weird coincidence.”

Tim stared off across the room. Was this what their trips had been like? Long stretches of searching and going through reports and documented findings, before the payoff of finding just what you were looking for? They were active collectors and art traders. But the search, the hunt, surely it wasn’t that different.

Did they ever stay in this part of Rome? As Tim had walked through the museums these past weeks, had he been retracing their footsteps? Would Tim have a better ground work for this sort of thing if he had ever gone with them? But, then again, if they had been the type of parents to take him with them, would Tim be who he was now? Would he be Robin?

“My brain is spiraling.” Tim said quietly.

“Okay,” Cassie squeezed his hands, “What do you need? Distraction? Venting? Grounding?”

Tim took a deep breath, “Grounding. Then probably distraction.”

“Gotcha,” Cassie stood up and pulled Tim up with her. She positioned them in the middle of the room. “Take some measured breaths. In four, hold four, out four.”

Tim followed Cassie’s lead, breathing deep and in rhythm. His thoughts still ran in different directions, feelings and distant hurts bubbling just below his awareness. But they would settle soon. He just needed to follow Cassie’s lead.

“In, 2, 3, 4.  
Hold, 2, 3, 4.   
Out, 2, 3, 4.”

In the back of his mind was a thought. He tucked it away. If the site in Iraq doesn’t pan out. If the next few weeks went the same as the last. If things didn’t get better, he could go back to that thought. But for now it could stay in the back. 

In four, hold four, out four.

Then their room exploded.


	24. When in Rome (but with assassins)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Creepy Old Man warning. Fuckin' Ra's.

“Tim!  _ Tim! _ ”

There was a ringing. His _everything_ hurt. There was a bitter taste of ash in his mouth. Someone was grabbing his arm- pulling his arm- dragging him. Someone was dragging him over sharp and broken objects. He peeled his eyes open, something sticky on his skin coated his left eye and made it harder to see out of.

The immediate surroundings were charred and smoking. Tim craned his head around and spotted the person dragging him. His stomach dropped.

It wasn’t Cassie. Dark robes and gloves and a cloth head covering obscured most details of the person with a steel grip on his arm. Tim was dragged over a pile of broken wooden furniture, jagged broken pieces scraping against him.

He let out a pained gasp. The figure stopped moving and turned to face him.

They struck, lightning fast. Tim tried to dodge, or to deflect the blow, but he was too rattled. The figure’s hand landed hard against Tim’s neck, the prick of a needle accompanying the pain.

“Well fuck you, too,” Tim spat as he crumpled further. Whatever was injected into him was fast acting. His already compromised vision was quickly fading.

“You are very lucky,” The figure spoke quietly, with a harsh tone, “An audience awaits you.”

“Worst...” Tim swallowed thickly as his limbs began to go numb, “Invitation…..ever…”

Tim passed out.

-';;'-

A sharp smell broke through suddenly. Tim coughed and hacked at it, coming to consciousness harshly. Tim pulled his face back, and was mildly surprised to find he wasn’t secured to anything. His hands weren’t bound. Tim blinked his eyes open.

He was sitting on a simple bed. In a rather nondescript room. There was faint light spilling in from the single small window high on the wall across from Tim. There was a small nightstand and a chair off in the distant corner.

There was a door off to the other side of the room, and a man standing in front of it.

“Detective. It’s a pleasure to see you.”

A shiver ran down Tim’s spine. He clenched his hands into fists. Tim stood up from the bed he was resting on. One of his legs was weak as he set his weight on it, but it held. As he stood, Tim noticed that he was in new clothes. Simple cloth pants and a tank top. Tim clenched his jaw.

Ra’s smiled. He tilted his head to the side slightly, “There’s no need for animosity between us. Not tonight at least. I just wanted to talk.”

Tim snorted a dry laugh, “As I told your fucking….valet, that was a shitty invitation. You know me, Ra’s, I like to talk. You didn’t need to blow me up first.”

Ra’s smile widened, “Your traveling companion necessitated the dramatic tactics.”

“It’s nice to know she scares you.” Tim shifted his eyes around again. There was very little to use as a weapon. No curtain rods, no sheets on the bed. He could use the chair, but it looked heavy and too sturdy to smash into something easier to wield. 

“It would be  _ inconvenient  _ to deal with the girl,” Ra’s corrected tensely. “But let us not trade barbs, Detective. We have much to discuss.”

Tim shifted his weight slightly from one foot to the other, “I’m all ears.”

Ra’s gave Tim a look over, lingering before speaking again. “I have a theory, Detective. About why you’ve traveled so far from home. And I have questions about your mentor. I do believe that the two are quite entwined.”

Tim didn’t respond. Some of the ease left Ra’s posture. His jaw tensed.

“Perhaps you are imagining a rescue? You are welcome to stall as much as you’d like, dear Detective.” Ra’s took a step further into the room, “I certainly enjoy your prolonged company.”

Tim forced himself to keep calm, to keep his posture measured. He managed to keep his voice even, “No, let’s keep this short and sweet. What do you want to know, Ra’s? And what’s in it for me?”

Ra’s sighed, “I wish to confirm your pursuits. You are visiting a great many historical sites. With objects of a certain theme. Just what are you chasing?”

Tim waited. Ra’s raised an eyebrow.

“I’m chasing a ghost.” Tim admitted, “If you want the specifics, tell me where we are right now, and why you want to know.”

Ra’s gestured to the room, “We are a few blocks south of your previous accommodations. I have a vested interest in the life and death of Bruce Wayne. So tell me, Detective, just what have you figured out?”

Tim took a deep breath, “I have a theory that Bruce may have survived. I’m looking for evidence.”

Ra’s’ smile returned. He took a few more steps closer, “See, now, how easy it is for us to get along cordially?” He moved his arm out towards Tim.

Tim flinched back. “Don’t touch me.”

Ra’s kept his hand outstretched, hovering in the air near Tim's head. “I have one further inquiry. My grandson was sent to Gotham to train under his Father’s tutelage. What has become of him, in light of Bruce’s absence?”

Tim narrowed his eyes, “I wouldn’t know. I’ve been avoiding the brat ever since he tried to kill me.”

Ra’s looked upset at that, his posture becoming tense. “He made an attempt on your life?”

Tim swore internally. “Just the normal assassin greeting, yeah? I guess I just don’t vibe with _your_ way of life.”

Ra’s glared at Tim.

Tim looked past him to the single door. “So, not that this hasn’t been an awful way to spend an evening, but I’d like to go now. I trust you can find my phone number, so maybe just text me the next time you want to chat, yeah?”

“I believe you offered me specifics, Detective,” Ra’s took another step forward, crowding Tim back against the far wall.

“Well I don’t  _ have _ many right now. I’m still in the middle of the investigation.” Tim backed up against the wall, away from Ra’s. 

Ra’s stayed there, standing imposingly close, gaze locked with Tim’s. A moment passed.

“I will be keeping in touch.” Ra’s whispered. His fingers trailed at the edge of Tim’s hair. Tim didn’t flinch that time, just kept his gaze locked on Ra’s.

Ra’s stepped away and swept out of the room. Tim waited for three seconds. And then he bolted to the window. It was unlocked, Tim shoved it open and contorted himself to squeeze through. He was on a second story and he saw the alleyway below. He hung from the very small ledge of the window with his finger tips. He pushed off and flipped down to the street below. His hurt leg twinged as he landed heavy on it.

Tim took a deep breath and then shouted at the top of his lungs.

“CASSIE!!!”

He took off up the alley towards the street. There were a few people out in the streets that noticed him as he came limping out of the dark. Tim ignored them.

“CASSIE!!”

There was a loud crash from a block up ahead. A trash can came rolling into the street as a person quickly followed. It was Cassie- her clothes were soot stained and burned, her hair was a mess, she had several bleeding cuts littering her arms and face.

She spotted Tim and ran to him, only barely managing to not outright use superspeed. She grabbed him, arms going around his chest and held him to her.

“Oh my fucking gods, are you okay?!”

“Yes, physically, I’m good. I’m fine. We need to  _ go. _ ” Tim clung to Cassie, “It was Ra’s, like actually Ra’s himself.”

“That  _ motherfucker- _ !”

“Cassie-”

“I know, I know.” Cassie started moving them through the streets. She shifted to have Tim next to her side, his arm pulled across her shoulders and her arm slung across his lower back. “Shit, where do we go? All the way back to the safe house in England?”

Tim shook his head. “He’s been following us. That safe house has probably been compromised. No, um,  _ fuck _ . Rome, Rome-” Tim wracked his brains, his panic that he had kept under control earlier now returning at full strength. “Fuck. I knew the League was getting antsy, but I didn’t expect the head-creep himself to show up.”

“We could go to  _ the island _ ,” Cassie said, gesturing out towards the coast, “It’s not that far of a flight. For me, anyway.”

“Do you think it’d be okay?” Tim gestured at himself.

“I think it’d be alright for one night,” Cassie nodded.

“Shit- my computer-”

Cassie just shook her head, “I’m sorry, but the explosion wrecked everything. All our luggage and passports too.”

“Fucking League  _ bullshit. _ ” Tim swore. “Yeah, okay. We don’t have anything to go back for, let’s go.”

Cassie pulled them into an alley, grabbed Tim up in a bridal carry, and shot off into the sky. Tim tucked his face in against the biting wind. 

“How long?” He called over the rushing air.

“About an hour, give or take mythical enchantments.”

Tim nodded against her shoulder and settled in. He tried to hold his arms in some way to keep them warm, but the tank top Ra’s  _ -ugh- _ had put him in offered little protection. 

It was a long, cold, miserable night.


	25. Better (a little bit)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> content warning: vomiting. Not graphic, but mentioned.

Their arrival at the island was a bit foggy to Tim. He was shivering against the cold as they landed, Cassie didn’t put him down until they were inside. Tim came back to better awareness as the warmed interior space returned feeling to his hands, his bare feet.

“Tim- Tim look at me.” Cassie’s face swam in front of his unfocused vision. “Oh, shit. Your pupils are huge. Did they give you something?”

Tim shook his head, and felt a dull throb of pain at the side of his neck. “Um, I think- my neck. There was a needle? Or a small knife….something to knock me out, limbs went numb.”

Tim tried to focus on his memory of the event. Everything had happened so fast. He never actually saw the needle, just felt it. “Very fast acting. Mouth feels kind of chalky.” Tim swallowed dryly against the feeling. “Water?”

Cassie was speaking to people around them. Tim's brain was caught somewhere between panicked hyper-vigilance and drugged fogginess. It left him feeling jumpy and desperate to track everything around him, but unable to keep focused for more than 5 seconds. He didn't have the strength to sit up straight, even while his heartbeat pounded in his ears.

“Tim-  _ Tim, _ ” Cassie was gripping his arms, practically holding him upright. “Talk to me. You look really pale. Like more than normal-”

Tim opened his mouth to answer, and just barely managed to miss Cassie with the return of the room service.

It continued to be a long and miserable night.

Tim was out of it to varying degrees. Cassie was never far from his side. He got incrementally better after his initial purge. Sleep was rough, patchy and light. At some point he opened his eyes to the soft light of dawn. 

The windows at the far side of whatever room he was in was glowing gently in the morning light. Cassie wasn’t in the immediate area. Tim felt a pang of panic, not seeing her. He struggled to lift his head. He felt shaky and weak, similar to the times he’d forgotten to eat for whole days on end. 

Someone was speaking quietly somewhere behind him. Tim stilled when he recognized Cassie’s voice.

“-sure it’s not some sort of poison?”

“- _ tt- _ If it was poison designed to kill, he would be dead. It is most likely a case of improper dosage. Too much of a paralyzing agent for someone his size or his weight, and his body overreacting to it.”

“But what if-”

“You said they separated him from you, yes? Then they were not trying to assassinate him. They wouldn’t bother to move him to another location to then slowly poison him over the course of hours. It is ridiculous to think so.”

“Fine then, how do we fix him?”

There was a pause. Tim strained to hear. The other voice sounded very young, with American accented English.

“I am not a healer.”

Tim tried to place the voice. It sounded so familiar. Tim shut his eyes against the headache throbbing in his temples. He willed his stomach to keep calm, he took steady breaths. His muscles ached, he felt vaguely feverish.

Tim woke up hours later with a start. “ _ Damian- _ !”

Cassie blinked at him, “No, I’m Cassandra. But it’s nice to see you awake.”

“No, the voice- I heard his voice,” Tim sat up, shakily, but with much more success than previous attempts.

“Yeah, he was around earlier,” Cassie helped Tim fix the pillows behind him on the bed-lounge thing. “I didn’t know you were awake then.”

Tim shook his hand in a ‘sort-of’ motion. “What time is it?”

Cassie looked over towards the windows, “Almost noon, maybe. How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a truck, but like, from the inside out?”

Cassie made a face, “That’s...a way to put it. Daphne thinks you had a really bad reaction to whatever Ra’s goon hit you with.”

Tim scrubbed his hand over his face, “Is there anything to do, aside from just waiting it out?”

Cassie gave him a pained look, “Not really. But now that you’re more awake, she said staying hydrated was important. Feel like you could have some water without it coming back up?”

Tim nodded and took the offered cup.

“So….Damian was here?”

“Yeah. I mean, we kind of made a bit of an entrance.” Cassie rubbed at the back of her neck, “You were- you were really rough when I landed. I almost thought you were having a seizure, you were shaking so bad.”

Tim rubbed a hand over his face, “I remember being super cold….” Tim’s gaze traveled from his hand down his arm and took in the, once again, new clothing he had been changed into. “What is- am I wearing a toga?”

Cassie shook her head, while trying to hold back a smile, “It’s a chiton. You kinda barfed all over the other clothes. Daphne- she’s a healer, remind me to actually introduce you to her later- Daphne and I got you out of those and into that. I have a few things stored in my room here if you’d want, like, a hoodie instead.”

“Cassie, I want a hoodie right now more than I want caffeine, and I think would murder for caffeine right now.”

Cassie snorted a laugh, “Okay, one hoodie, coming up. I might have an old energy drink stashed away….”

Tim gasped, “Don’t say that- don’t taunt me with uncertainties, Cassie, I think I would actually cry.”

Cassie shook her head, “Even if I do have some, I’m not giving it to you- you’d just barf it back up. Sip some more water. I’ll be right back.”

“Cassie-” Tim whined at her retreating back. 

Tim recovered his strength over the course of the day. His body worked through the last lingering effects of the chemicals, and his appetite returned. He met Daphne and a few other healers, making sure to thank them for their care. By nightfall he was trying to convince Cassie they should depart.

“Alfred’s going to be worried. We’ve missed our daily check in, and not only did my bracelet probably transmit getting hit by an explosion, I lost it between then and waking up in the room with Ra’s. We need to get a message back to Gotham.”

Cassie held her hands up, palms out, “I already called it in. I took the satellite phone here up above the mythic-barrier-illusion-thing boundaries and sent Diana an update. She said she’d relay it to Gotham. They already know the general situation at least. So how about we stay one more night, you go 24 hours without emptying your guts, and then we think about heading out?”

Tim didn’t like it. Now that he could focus on something other than how miserable he felt, he was worried about the League somehow following them, even to Themyscira. He had told Cassie about the ‘chat’ he’d had with Ra’s.  Something about Ra’s had seemed different, at least different from the Ra’s Tim had interacted with as Robin. He normally presented himself as this larger-than-life dramatic figure. Seeing him in that small room in a random building in Rome had seemed almost...frighteningly casual. Somehow Ra’s made casual unnerving.

Cassie and Tim had dinner in the healer’s room. After proving that he could keep his meal down, Tim was released from their supervision. Cassie took the chance to show Tim her room on the island.

“This is as close as they get here to, like, an apartment. This building used to be barracks, but it’s been used as a bunch of different things over the centuries. Storage mostly. But now I’ve got a few of the rooms all kind of claimed as where I stay when I’m on the island.”

“I’m kind of disappointed there aren’t any posters on the walls.”

“Oh, yeah, Tim, let me just grab some push pins to hang some posters on centuries old, intact, original construction ancient Greek architecture.”

Tim shrugged, “You could use tape.”

Cassie rolled her eyes. “I don’t  _ have _ any posters.” 

“You have ten posters in your room at the Tower.”

“Right, so I don’t have any left to hang here.”

Tim and Cassie settled in for the night, interior decorating differences-of-opinion aside. Tim woke up after a few hours of sleep. Cassie was out like a light on her side of the bed, snoring slightly. Tim got up and silently padded his way to the attached balcony.

The air outside was clear, the sky was twinkling with stars, the moon was bright even though it was only half full. Tim took a few deep breaths, feeling the aches and pains in his body stretch and complain. He looked down at the garden sprawling from the side of the building, grape vines marking a loose border around the plot. 

There was a sound off to his right, along the side of the building. Like a soft intake of breath. Tim turned and saw the next balcony over. Curtains were softly swaying in the evening air, and Damian was standing behind them.

Tim blinked. 

No, yeah, that was Damian. One of his hands was grasping the curtain next to him, his stance betraying his own surprise. Like Damian had just been stepping out onto his balcony, and hadn’t spotted Tim until he was there.

Damian looked tanner, even in the moonlight. Tanner than he had the last time Tim had seen him. It was almost three months ago now, that Damian had left Gotham. He was wearing a chiton- or maybe it was some other Greek clothing. Tim couldn’t tell. 

Tim lifted one hand and gave a half-sort-of wave. Damian’s pose unfroze.

“What are you doing here?” Damian’s voice carried over. 

Tim put a finger to his lips and pointed back at the building. “I’m staying in Cassie’s room. She’s asleep.”

Damian eyed the building, Tim couldn’t really make out his expression.

“Are those your rooms?” Tim nodded towards Damian.

“The ones I have been given,” Damian replied, his tone clipped.

Tim held his hands up, “I didn’t know. I don’t think Cassie did either. We’re not staying long.” Tim gave another little half wave as he turned to retreat back into Cassie’s room. 

Damian’s voice caught him before he could make it back inside. “You saw my grandfather?”

Tim sucked in a breath. He gripped his hands into fists. He turned back to face Damian. The kid was at the closest edge of his balcony, hands on the railing. He looked….anxious? Nervous? Worried?

It was hard to tell in the moonlight.

Tim moved away from the door and over to the nearer side of Cassie’s balcony. There was only about ten feet separating Damian and himself. Tim knew either of them could clear that distance in a heartbeat.

Tim clenched his hands harder, but kept them at his sides, hidden by the height of the balcony’s railing. He could feel his nails pressing sharply into his palms. It helped his tension settle.

“I saw Ra’s. He found me in Rome. It was a...short meeting.”

“Are you-” Damian cut himself off. He seemed to take a second to gather his words. “I know you were recovering, in the healers’ halls. And now it seems you are well enough to not have to spend the night there as well. Are you- feeling better?”

Tim was stunned. It actually sounded like the kid cared. His surprise must have shown on his face, because Damian actually took a step back. His eyes darting to his balcony door.

“Uh, a little?” Tim replied, halting Damian in place. “It’s- yeah. A little better.”

Damian gave him a curt nod. And then walked briskly back into his rooms.

Tim let out a breath. The night time insects chirped and buzzed on the ground below. Tim felt both tired and wide awake. He went back into Cassie’s room and climbed back in the bed.  Exhaustion won out as his eyelids grew heavy.

It was a much kinder night than the last.


	26. Leap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What is pacing? (My canon now)

Departure from Themyscira the next morning was a pretty simple affair. Diana had stopped by, with an actual plane, to pick them up. She and Cassie spent the better part of the morning catching up, with Tim providing details when appropriate.

They decided it was best to get Tim back to Gotham, at least to resupply and reassess how to continue his mission. Diana was surprised to hear what he and Cassie had been doing, but she didn’t voice any opposition. She just handed Tim a spare Wayne-tech smartphone as they boarded the plane.

“Your family is very worried.” Diana told him, “You should call as soon as you have service.”

Somewhere over the Atlantic, Tim’s new phone came online, and it was instantly flooded with messages. Mostly texts from Dick and Steph asked for more details and if he was okay. Tim took a centering breath, and called the manor. It was a long conversation of reassuring Alfred several times that he was okay and headed home. 

He should have known better than to jinx it.

An alert came in, Justice League high priority. Diana answered. There was some sort of temporal anomaly happening at the Watchtower. Someone or something was calling for Superman.

Diana asked them what they wanted to do. Cassie and Tim shared a look.

“I don’t have a suit,” Tim mentioned.

“Nightwing gave me a spare to bring along, just in case,” Diana gestured to the overhead compartment.

Tim raised an eyebrow and went to fetch it.

“Cassandra?”

Cassie clenched her fists. She spared a glance to Tim, who was already pulling out the suit and starting to gear up.

“Yeah, okay. Don’t let us slow you down.”

Diana flipped several switches in the cockpit, and the plane shuddered around them. Whatever camouflage or illusion had been up dropped, and Tim recognized the interior of Diana’s jet.

“Oh.”

“Buckle up,” Diana called back to them, “And don’t lean forward.”

They made it to the Watchtower in under two minutes.

Apparently that had been too long. Superman had already made it onto the WatchTower and gotten spirited away by the anomaly. Cyborg, Adam Strange, and Barry ran tests on the site, each turning up very little. Chronotron radiation, abnormal levels of free electrons in the surrounding floors and walls. Really it just confirmed their initial theory, a temporal anomaly.

“It called out his name, so he just walked into it,” Cassie rolled her eyes to Tim, “Why am I not surprised. If there was anything Conner truly inherited, it was the Kryptonian leap-before-you-look gene.”

“Invulnerability leads to poor risk-reward analysis,” Tim recited. He scoffed, “Oh, god, I sound like B.”

Cassie snorted, “Just don’t start adopting orphans. I don’t think Agent A would take kindly to that.”

“I’ll just go the Nightwing route and adopt super teams. Are the Outsiders looking for new members?”

Cassie laughed and then stifled it as they caught the attention of the busy scientists. Cassie waved at them, and then dragged Tim back and out of the immediate vicinity of the investigation. They made their way to the lounge/mess hall. Red Tornado and Martian Manhunter nodded to them as they entered, but otherwise they were alone.

“Hasn’t Superman disappeared into temporal anomalies before?” Tim wondered aloud.

Cassie shrugged as she raided the fridge, “Not to my knowledge, but _ I _ don’t read old case files for funsies.”

Tim rubbed at his chin as he tried to recall. It wasn’t a very recent event, but he was sure he’d read something about it before. After Cassie shoved a Flash-brand power bar at him, Tim made his way to a Watchtower terminal. He began sifting through old files and cases. 

“Okay, so, you know all the bullshit we get up to on Titan’s business?” Tim asked. Cassie nodded. “Doesn’t hold a candle to the shit in Superman’s files. Did you know he’s fought four different alternate versions of himself? And that’s not including the times he’s gotten transported to other dimensions.”

Cassie raised an eyebrow, “Okay... Do you think that’s what happened this time?”

Tim shrugged, “The only time travel stuff in here that’s not also alternate dimension stuff, are two incidents involving a group called the...Legion of Superheroes? From the 31st century…?”

Cassie leaned in to look at the screen, “Wasn’t Bart-?”

“30th century. And also his past is now an altered timeline from our present. So I don’t think the two are actually related.”

“So this Legion was calling him?” Cassie asked, “And he’s worked with them before? Why didn’t he just say that before disappearing with them?”

“Perhaps he did not have time,” Red Tornado said from right behind them.

Tim and Cassie jumped.

“ _ Zeus’ tits _ ….Hi, Red.”

“Zeus’ tits?” Tim mouthed at Cassie. She punched his arm.

“Greetings, Wondergirl. Robin. Are you assisting in the temporal anomaly investigation?”

“We were getting a ride from Diana when she got called in,” Cassie explained. “Are you also investigating?”

Red Tornado shook his head, “If it is indeed the Legion of Superheroes involved in this matter, then Superman should be returned to our present before the end of the day. As was the case in previous interactions.”

“Oh, well, that’s good.”

“Unless he does not survive the encounter.” Red Tornado continued.

Tim and Cassie shared a look. “Yeah. I guess.”

Red Tornado nodded and then walked away.

Tim and Cassie shared  _ another  _ look.

“Charming man.”

“Makes Batman look emotive.”

“You would think.”

Cassie and Tim returned to the anomaly room and shared their findings. The League settled in to wait. Two hours later, Dick zeta-d to the WatchTower.

“ROBIN!”

“Oh shit,” Tim jumped up. The rest of the room turned to him, “I didn’t update Agent A.”

Cassie sucked in a breath, “Well, it’s been nice knowing you.”

Barry snickered, “Gone too soon.”

Tim flipped Cassie off as he hurried out of the room. Dick, in full Nightwing gear, was stalking towards him from down the hall.

“I’m sorry- this is completely my bad- it slipped my mind-”

Dick grabbed Tim’s arms and leveled him with a pretty spot-on Batman glare.

“I-” Dick paused to take a breath, “Am so mad. You are in,  _ so _ much trouble. I haven’t seen A that worried since- well you can fucking guess.”

Tim nodded. He felt the guilt pooling in his gut. “I really didn’t mean to, D. I forgot. I heard temporal anomaly and thought maybe this had something to do with-  _ with B _ . But you’re right. I should have called. Updated everyone. I got distracted.”

Dick’s tough veneer started to crack, “Babybird- I know you didn’t mean to. But you’re the one who has to explain that to Agent A. Like, now. Let’s get going.”

They turned to head back down the hallway towards the Zeta tubes, and the room behind them exploded with lights. They turned back to see a dazzling array pouring out into the hallway. A high pitched buzzing sound filled the air.

Tim shot Dick a quick look. Dick took a second, but eventually nodded. He didn’t let go of Tim’s arm as they both cautiously approached the room.

Cassie, Barry, Strange, and Cyborg were all still inside. All of them were facing the hovering portal-disk-thing in the center of the room. It was casting the lights and pulsing with the high pitched noise. In the center were several vague silhouettes. They moved back and forth before one started to become more defined. It grew, like it was approaching from a distance, until Superman stepped out of the portal. He looked around at the people in the room.

“Oh! Sorry- am I interrupting?”

“Clark, what the fuck?” Barry gestured to him and the portal. 

“Flash, there’s no need for- hold on, they’re still coming through.” Superman moved away from the portal and looked back at it expectantly.

Two more silhouettes were growing in size, approaching from the other side of the portal. Both of them looked smaller than Superman, and one of them was smaller than the other. Just as they were taking shape enough to make out details, the portal flashed a blinding light and disappeared.

Standing in its place, were Kon and Bart.


	27. The More Things Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys are back! Everything's fine now, right?

There was a beat, a pause, a moment of shock that resonated out from the silence of the portal disappearing. Kon and Bart were standing in the middle of the room. They both had odd clothing on, brightly colored with odd accents. Almost like something out of a retro sci-fi movie.

Barry broke the stunned silence.

He ran over to Bart, too quick for almost anyone to follow. He was kneeling in front of Bart, his hands grabbing Bart's shoulder, touching the side of his face, pulling Bart into a hug.

Tim couldn't follow what they were saying, super-speed and all. Kon had tracked the movement, and was watching the two speedsters with a raised eyebrow. But then he turned back to the other people in the room. He spotted Cassie.

Strange and Cyborg were talking to Superman, asking him what had just happened, where he'd gone, and how he'd brought these two back with him.

Tim only vaguely noticed their conversation. He watched as Cassie took a hesitant step towards Kon, and then flew the rest of the distance. She grabbed him into a hug that was more of a flying tackle. 

"Ah! Cassie!" Kon laughed and wrapped his arms around her. "Oh, man. What- I don't even know what's going on- How long-?"

"A year and a half." Tim answered as he stepped into the room. Kon and Cassie both turned to look at him. Cassie had tears in her eyes and a death grip on Kon's shirt. "You died a year and a half ago."

Kon's eyes grew wide. He stared at Tim as his feet lowered back onto the ground. Kon held a hand out towards Tim.

Dick's grip on his arm had gone slack and Tim broke from it to run across the room. He slammed into Kon, Tim's arm snaking around him. Kon wrapped his free arm around Tim and held him close. Tim buried his face into Kon's chest.

"This is real, right?" Tim asked, his voice shaking. "Please. Please let this be real-"

"It's really him," Superman assured them. 

Tim looked up and over at him. Barry stood facing Superman, holding Bart in his arms. Bart's arms were thrown around Barry's neck, his head leaning against his grandfather's shoulder. Everyone else was staring at Superman, too.

Clark rubbed the back of his neck, "It's a bit complicated to explain. But the short of it is, the Legion of Superheroes was pulling heroes in from across time and space. They used their future tech to jump start the Kryptonian crystal machines at the Fortress to bring Kon-El back. They also had a relic of some sort that was able to pull Kid Flash out of the SpeedForce. I'm not too clear on the specifics of either, but Brainiac 5 assured me everything went okay with both… procedures."

"Brainiac?" Barry asked.

"Brainiac 5," Clark corrected, "He's the Legion's current leader. He is very different from his ancestor."

Barry and Clark started to talk space and time and physics, Cyborg and Strange joining in. Cassie kept one hand gripping the back of Conner's shirt as she reached over to Bart. Bart shuffled out of Barry's hold and ran over to join their group hug.

"Hey, guys," Bart squeezed his way to the center of the embrace, "I found Kon."

Tim and Cassie laughed like they'd been punched in the gut. Cassie mussed Bart's hair and pulled him into a tighter hug.

"I'm sure this was your plan all along."

"Oh, fuck no," Bart shook his head fast enough to blur it. "0 out of 10 would not recommend disappearing into the SpeedForce. 0 stars. Horrible way to spend eternity. It was- it was-"

Bart's eyes had gone distant, his hands gripping Cassie's arm were vibrating with how bad they were shaking. 

Tim put his hand out, laying it gently against Bart's cheek. He turned Bart's head until he caught his gaze. Tim peeled his domino off so Bart could actually track his eyes.

"You're not there. You're at the Watchtower. Look at me, Bart. I'm here with you. Cassie's here. K-" Tim's voice caught, but he pushed on, "Kon's here. You're here."

It took only a second for Bart's eyes to focus on Tim's face. Tim wondered how long that second had felt to Bart. Bart blinked and his shaking calmed slightly. He squeezed Cassie's arm around him. His eyes flicked up to Kon and then back to Tim.

"It was...a lot. And then the battle with the Legion was a lot." Bart's gaze shifted up to Kon again, "Superboy prime was there- we stopped him, but he was there."

Tim and Cassie turned to Kon.

"Woah, hey. Guys, I'm fine." Kon rubbed at the back of his neck, goofy smile on his face. "The Legion and Bart handled him. I'm good. I mean, I'm a little sore from the whole revival process, but other than that I'm fine."

"You don't have to be fine," Cassie said softly.

Kon's expression softened and his smile dropped in intensity. "I know. Really, I'm just playing catch-up more than anything. Last I remember we were fighting a crisis here, and then suddenly I was at the Fortress with some younger looking Brainiac guy telling me I'm a thousand years in the future and there's another crisis that needs me. It was….like Bart said, _a lot._ "

Tim wrapped his arms around Kon again. They all crowded together in a group hug. And stayed like that for a while. 

“Hey,” Bart tugged at Tim’s cape, “Look at me again.”

Tim blinked and stared at Bart. He could see some wrinkles next to Bart’s eyes that he didn’t remember being there before. Also- it was hard to tell in the light- some grey hairs at his temple? Bart leaned in close, his eyes tracking something on Tim’s face.

“What?” Tim asked and Bart squinted at him.

“Your pupils are different sizes.”

“What?” Cassie and Kon both leaned down to look. Tim held still under their scrutiny.

“Wow, they are.” Kon reached an arm out and brushed TIm’s hair back. “Did you hit your head?”

“Do you have a headache?” Bart leaned in even closer.

"I mean,” Tim closed his eyes to think, “Ra's Al Ghul blew up my hotel room two nights ago with me in it-"

“What?!”

“Cassie was there too-”

“You did take a bad hit,” Cassie grimaced. “And then you threw up a bunch after.”

Tim waved his hand dismissively, “I was poisoned, though. I don’t know if the nausea is related.”

“I’m sorry, you were  _ what _ ?” Kon asked.

“Do you have a headache?” Bart repeated.

“Of course I have a headache, I haven’t had caffeine in two days.”

Dick cleared his throat from behind them. “Robin.”

They all turned to him. Dick leaned down to stare at Tim on his level. He gently grabbed Tim’s chin and tilted his head at different angles.

“O-kay, we’re moving this conversation to the Med Bay,” Dick announced to the room at large. “Probably best to get these two checked out anyway,” Dick gestured to Kon and Bart.

“I’m not dizzy or anything,” Tim told him as they all, Barry included, filed out of the room. Dick was steering Tim along next to him.

“Yeah, but now I’m thinking you forgetting to check in might be a related memory issue.” Dick squeezed Tim’s arm. “You’ve otherwise been pretty consistent with it for a while now.”

Tim blinked. His headache had been constant all day. He’d thought it was just caffeine withdrawal, but he hadn’t remembered to grab any coffee when he and Cassie had been in the mess hall earlier.

“Okay,” Tim conceded, “I  _ might _ be concussed.”

Kon sighed. Cassie shook her head. Bart snorted a laugh. Barry ruffled Bart’s hair.

“Never a dull day.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I remember the animated legion of Superheroes series with fondness. Brainiac 5 was my favorite character.


	28. (Re)Group

An afternoon spent in the Watchtower Med-Bay went by fairly quickly. Tim did have a concussion, and he was prescribed a few days of light activity and general rest. Kon and Bart were given general physicals. Kon showed a few signs of fatigue and soreness, but nothing serious. Bart was a harder case.

Bart’s reflexes and physical well-being was well within his normal parameters. But he kept losing focus and startling badly. It was hard to track due to the fact that he slipped into superspeed during his disconnects. Barry stayed with him throughout the check-up, helping guide his focus back to the present. 

“This sucks,” Bart lamented, rubbing at his face. “I wasn’t doing this when we were fighting with the Legion!”

“Well, that makes sense,” Tim told him, “You were in fight-mode. Focusing on the battle and not really anything else, right? But now your back here and there’s no giant threat to hyper-focus on. It’s actually really common for trauma responses to get worse when you first get to a safer environment.”

Bart stared at him across the room. “You sound like Canary.”

Tim nodded, “So I sound like I'm right.”

Bart snorted a laugh, “You got me there.”

Wally zeta-ed in and caught them at the tail end of the check-ups. He rushed into the Med-Bay, spotted Barry and Bart, and was next to them in a heartbeat. He pulled Bart into a hug, Bart clung to him, burying his face into his chest. 

“Barry called me- I didn’t believe it-” Wally stood with Bart still in his arms, “Oh my god, Bart, you don’t weigh a thing. Have you eaten anything? Has he eaten anything?”

Barry sighed, “He’s had some power bars. We were going to the Mess Hall next.”

“Well then let’s go-” Wally turned around and spotted Conner. “Oh, holy shit!  _ Barry! _ Text me the whole situation. You’re so bad at summarizing.”

“So that hasn’t changed,” Bart snickered.

“Hey-”

Wally zipped over to Conner, still carrying Bart, “I bet you’re hungry, too. Everyone else hungry?”

There was a general consensus. 

“Great, race you there.” And then Wally was gone, Bart with him.

“There won’t be any food left,” Cassie lamented as everyone else got to their feet.

Barry raced ahead, everyone else filed out together. Dick kept a hand on Tim's shoulder. It was a little stifling, but Tim figured he'd worried Dick enough for one day, and he could let him have this.

Besides, Tim was having a hard time focusing on much past his now splitting headache. He'd taken some non-aspirin, not NSAID painkillers, but they were only so effective. Tim focused on following Kon who was trailing Cassie.

Tim had the urge to grab Kon's hand and hold on to it. But they reached the Mess Hall before he'd actually made a move.

Barry and Wally were sitting bracketing Bart between them, a hefty array of food spread out on the table before them. Bart was eating, but it was at what would be a normal pace for a normal human. So for Bart it was almost like he was picking at the food.

Everyone joined them at the table.

"So." Wally began.

"So?" Bart responded.

Wally gestured at him and Kon, "Barry sucks at briefing. Fill me in."

Dick and Kon relayed to him the general timeline of events Superman had told everyone, with Barry filling in a bit more of the how's as far as the science went. 

"And that's when you came in." Kon finished helpfully. He turned his attention to Tim, "Although I'd still like to hear more about how you got your concussion."

Tim rubbed at his eyes. The lighting in the Mess Hall kitchen was not doing his headache any favors. "It's complicated. I was caught in an explosion, and then knocked out with a chemical agent of some kind. I woke up some time later, and managed to escape and get back to Cassie. We relocated and I was attended to as the chemical agent worked its way out of my system. We were on our way back to Gotham for further medical attention and regrouping when temporal anomalies happened."

"Hey, where  _ is _ Diana?" Cassie wondered aloud.

"She assumed monitor duty while we studied the anomaly." Barry said.

There were voices then, coming up the hallway leading to the Mess Hall. Well, mostly one voice.

"Speak of the devil," Tim covered his ears.

"- what I'm saying Kal-el! You can't just abandon your post- not without properly briefing your teammates on the situation!"

"I didn't know the full situation, Diana."

"You knew more than you communicated- which was nothing! You could have told us that you recognized the portal, and who had sent it!"

"I didn't think there was time-"

"You have superspeed, Kal. You could have jotted something down."

"I-" 

There was a pause. 

"I didn't think of that. But you make a good point."

Diana and Clark rounded the corner to the Mess Hall. Diana was rolling her eyes. She smiled when she spotted everyone at their table. She strode towards them, leaving Clark in her wake.

"It is a blessing to see you two again," Diana addressed Kon and Bart. "How are you faring?"

Kon shrugged, "Pretty alright, especially considering everything." 

Bart waved his hand in a so-so motion. He stuffed another power bar in his mouth rather than say anything.

Diana smiled kindly at them. She turned to Dick, "I take it you'll be delivering Robin back home then?"

"I'm not letting this kid out of my sight anytime soon," Dick confirmed, "But thanks for grabbing him earlier."

"I apologise for not returning him home myself."

"Stuff happens." Dick shrugged, "It's the job."

"Speaking of returning home," Clark stepped up from behind Diana, "Conner, do you want to go see Ma and Pa? I know they'll be over the moon about this. You."

Kon smiled, "Yeah. It's been more than a year, though, right? Maybe we should call ahead."

Clark nodded, "Of course. But I don't want to call them until you're en route. I'm pretty sure they'd somehow march all the way up here if they knew you were back. I don't think they'd be patient about it."

"I wasn't." Wally said, ruffling Bart's hair. "I mean, it's not everyday you get someone back."

Bart leaned into the touch and Wally pulled him fully onto his lap, tucking Bart's head under his chin.

"We do need to let Iris, Jay, and Joan know." Barry commented, "Hal too. I mean, we need to eventually tell  _ everyone _ . But that can wait a little bit."

"I mean, we can go now?" Kon proposed, "I'm pretty tired still, from everything. It'd be nice to be in my own bed."

Kon stood up from the table. Bart, Cassie, and Tim all flinched, each reaching out towards him before aborting the movement. Kon's eyes went wide.

"Or I could stay here a bit longer." He looked from Bart to Cassie to Tim.

Bart ducked his head into Wally's chest, holding his hand curled back and tucked away. "It's fine, dude. I'm just being jumpy again."

Cassie clenched her outstretched hand into a fist. "It's not fine. None of this is fine. Or normal."

Diana stepped forward and put her hand on Cassie's shoulder. "Cassandra-" 

"It's not!" Cassie sniffed and rubbed at her eye angrily, "You were dead! Bart was gone. Nothing's been  _ fine _ in a long time."

Tim had let his hand fall back down to his side. Dick was watching him, his hand still sitting warm on his shoulder. Tim was watching Kon's face. Watching him be taken aback by Cassie's grief.

"Cassie," Kon walked around the table towards her. He stopped short, but opened his arms, "I'm sorry. I didn't think. It's- this is  _ weird _ . Because to me barely any time has passed."

Cassie glared at him, wiped at her eyes again, and then pulled him into a hug. Kon wrapped his arms around her.

"I don't have to leave right now. We can stay and catch up some more. I'm not in any rush."

Bart nodded to himself. He zipped out of Wally's arms and over to hug both Cassie and Kon.

"I'm not feeling the rush either."

Barry and Wally exchanged a look, their expressions hard to read.

Dick squeezed Tim's shoulder gently. Tim didn't react, just stared at the group hug across the table.

Dick cleared his throat, "How about a sleepover?"

Everyone turned to face him, some faces incredulous.

Dick laughed at the attention, "It doesn't have to be here. I'd really like to get Robin back to Gotham for some actual rest. How about you three come over? And anyone else who wants to."

Cassie, Bart, and Kon all shared a look and then nodded.

"Yeah, that sounds good."

"I'm in."

"I'm down."

Wally and Barry exchanged another look with each other.

Barry stood, "I'll cover patrol tonight."

Wally raised an eyebrow, "You sure?"

Barry nodded, "Iris is working late anyway." He sped over to Bart, "I'll be by in the morning. Bring you some of those Central Cafe donuts."

Bart nodded, "Ooooo, the ones with the lightning icing?"

"They're the best ones." Barry held his arms open. Bart flung himself onto him for another hug.

Superman cleared his throat, "I'm back on monitor duty here. So call if you need anything."

Diana caught Cassie's gaze.

"Sorry," Cassie muttered.

Diana pulled her into a hug, "Don't be. Go. Spend time with your friends. There will be time enough for other things later."

Cassie nodded into Diana's shoulder.

Dick stood, pulling Tim up with him. They all made their way to the zeta tube platform. Wally, Bart, Kon, Cassie, and Tim waited as Dick went through the process of bringing the direct zeta to the Cave online. And reauthorized Bart and Kon's access codes.

Cassie stood back a ways, next to Tim. She took his hand in hers. She squeezed it gently.

Tim rubbed at his temple, wincing at the bright light of the zeta tube powering up. He squeezed Cassie's hand back.

They all stepped through and arrived at the platform in the Cave.

Alfred was standing by the batcomputer, a duster in hand. He raised one eyebrow at the assembled crowd.

"Ah," Alfred's other eyebrow went up as he took them all in. "Company."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all's comments are what's keep me going. Onward!


	29. Lay Down (Your Weary Head)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> bit of a shorter chapter, but it just felt like the right flow (does that make sense?)

Alfred kept his composure, as always. He quickly welcomed everyone in, berated Dick for not warning him beforehand, assured everyone that there were plenty of rooms ready anyway, and then firmly took Tim into the Cave’s medical wing.

Tim went along, knowing better than to argue with Alfred. The sparser lights in the Cave offered a bit of relief towards his headache. Alfred ran him through another quick couple of tests to confirm his concussion, as well as taking blood to test for any lingering traces of whatever he had been injected with.

“I daresay, you’ve had an eventful few days now,” Alfred commented.

Tim nodded.

Alfred put his hand on Tim’s shoulder and squeezed gently, “Not much for conversation? You’ve been very quiet.”

Tim pursed his lips together, “My head’s hurting real bad, Alfie. It’s kind of making it hard to think.”

“Ah, yes,” Alfred agreed easily, “And there is, of course, no other cause for hesitance and introspection currently.”

Tim sighed, “I didn’t say that.”

“You haven’t said very much at all,” Alfred pointed out softly. He handed Tim a few pills and a glass of water. “Your next dose, to manage your pain.”

Tim took the pills and drained the glass. He held it in his hands, turning it around slowly as he tried to organize his thoughts. He knew from research and previous injuries that concussions can cause fatigue, and difficulties with speech, as well as impact mood swings and emotional dips. But he also recognized the want to shut down. To just let his thoughts slip beneath his awareness and ignore them. He felt like crying, but also like he didn’t have enough energy to actually cry.

“I don’t know what to do.”

Alfred finished shutting the medicine cabinet. He walked back to Tim, and then sat down on the examination bed next to him. He put an arm around Tim’s shoulders, guiding him to lean in against his side.

“My dear boy, I do not think anyone knows what to do. Not in such an abnormal situation as this.”

Tim sniffed and could feel tears gathering at the corners of his eyes.

“I’m not….I’m not the person Kon knew back then. It’s only been, like, a few days or so to him. But- but I’m not who he remembers. I’m not who Bart remembers either, but it’s different. He’s- it’s horrible to think, but he’s damaged too. Being in the SpeedForce like that, he’s not okay. And that’s awful, and I wish he was okay and didn’t have to deal with that, but it feels easier to deal with than  _ Kon. _ Who’s just a little tired, who’s not all fucked up and who looked so shocked to see that Cassie was upset about all of this. What if- what if he can’t deal with me now? What if he doesn’t want to-?”

Tim couldn’t hold back the tears. Crying and coughing sent sharp spikes of pain across his head. Alfred held him tightly, and offered him a handkerchief.

“And even- even if he does still want to be with me, I don’t think I’d be a good boyfriend anymore. I’m not- not-”

“Master Tim,” Alfred interrupted, “I understand that you have many concerns, several of which are very real and it is very mature for you to be considerate of them. Many things have changed drastically in your life. But I would advise you refrain from making any decisions  _ for _ Mister Kent.”

Alfred very gently ran his hand through Tim’s hair and tucked his head in against him.

“I do not think things will simply return to as they were prior to his death, nor should they.” Alfred spoke calmly, “There will be adjustments, on both your and his parts. Just because he did not experience these past months does not mean he will not be impacted by them. I cannot promise anything about how he will feel going forward. But if he is anything like the kind, thoughtful boy we all knew, then I know he will do his best to navigate this new situation  _ with _ you. In whatever form that takes.”

Tim wiped at his tears, “I don’t want him to be with me out of some kind of obligation, or guilt because we  _ were _ together.”

Alfred squeezed Tim’s shoulder. “That sounds like a very reasonable concern to bring up with him. Just as it is important to remember that, regardless of what you observe from the outside, only he can truly know his own motivations. Did you trust him to be honest with you before about such things?”

Tim nodded.

“Then perhaps trusting him further would be advised.”

  
  


Tim and Alfred joined everyone upstairs. Dick had everyone set up in the den attached to the library. They had taken the cushions off of the nearby couches and loveseats and had made a giant pillow bed/pile in the middle of the room. Kon and Bart had changed into some spare clothes; Bart was swimming in one of Dick’s old college hoodies, Kon was wearing one of his own old T-shirts.

“Alfred!” Wally smiled as they appeared, “Dick won’t let me in the kitchen-”

“I know you, Wally, of course I’m not going to-”

“We need snacks, Dick! It’s not a sleepover without snacks!”

Alfred sighed, “Really, Master Dick. What sort of host doesn’t provide for his guests?”

“Alfie!” Dick pouted.

The three of them went off to secure refreshments, Dick and Wally still bickering as they went.

Bart made grabby hands at Tim from the center of the cushion pile. “Dude, come here. You look like you’re going to pass out.”

Tim made a noncommittal noise and shuffled towards the pile. He laid down between Bart and Cassie. Bart grabbed his torso and proceeded to wrap himself around him like a large koala. Cassie giggled at them.

“Did Alfred clear you for sleeping?” Cassie asked.

Tim nodded, “Said he’d check on me periodically. But otherwise I’m okay.”

Tim felt a hand gently running through his hair. He blinked up at Kon, who was leaning over Bart to reach. Kon smiled at him.

“Is he gonna be pissed about all the cushions? Dick said it’d be fine, but…”

“As long as he doesn’t have to be the one to clean it up, it’ll be fine.” Tim yawned. Bart was warm against him, and the cushions were soft underneath. The pain meds might’ve also started to kick in.

“I think I’m fading fast,” Tim muttered.

“Grab some Z’s, man.” Bart said as he snuggled closer, “You look like you really need it.”

“We’ll still be here,” Kon assured him.

“I’ll make sure of it,” Cassie promised.

Tim nodded and settled into place. He wormed an arm out of Bart’s hold and reached up to touch Kon’s hand. Kon grabbed on, his super impervious skin still soft to the touch. Just like Tim remembered.

Tim slept.


	30. Pillows and Talk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't really written Kon dialogue since chapter 1... take that as you will
> 
> Also 30 chapters?! When did that happen?

Alfred came by for another check up on Tim. They quietly went through the routine in the hallway outside of the den. Alfred cleared him, like he had a few times previously, and sent him back in to rest.

There was a light on in the library next door, and Tim was fairly certain Dick was working on cases, but staying close.

Tim quietly stepped back into the den. 

Bart and Cassie were both conked out. They were sprawled on the floor of pillows and cushions. Wally was passed out on the far side of the pillow pile, one hand gripping Bart's hoodie.

Tim bent over Cassie and Bart and adjusted their blankets to cover them better.

Kon was awake and sitting in a recliner. He had a smartphone out, but it was pretty clear he wasn’t really paying it any attention. The blue light set his face into harsh relief.

Tim carefully maneuvered around the sleeping bodies and over the sprawl of pillows. He tip-toed over to Kon. 

“Hey.” Tim whispered.

“Hey,” Kon smiled up at him, setting the phone aside. “Not going back to sleep?”

Tim shrugged, “Maybe in a bit. What’s keeping you up?”

Kon sighed, “Not tired. Not yet any way.”

Tim nodded and then yawned. Kon smirked and reached for him, setting his hands to rest on Tim’s hips.

“C’mere.”

Tim tensed for a moment, but pushed past it. He settled himself on Kon’s lap, his head resting against Kon’s chest. Tim breathed in deeply. The old t-shirt smelled like the fabric softener Alfred used. Like home.

Kon wrapped his arms around Tim and gently laid his head against Tim’s.

They sat there for a while. Kon was warm, he always ran just a touch hotter than most people. Tim had his ear pressed to Kon's chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“Hey," Kon whispered just loud enough for Tim to hear. "I know this probably sounds cheesy, and like, I’m not trying to diminish anything you’ve gone through-"

Kon took a deep breath, Tim's head laid heavy on his chest. 

"I missed you. I was in the future with the Legion for like, two days I think? But I didn’t know if I was ever going to see you again. There wasn’t any time to ask about it during all the fighting. And I just- I missed you.”

Tim felt the words hit like a sucker punch. His eyes watered, his hands shook. He grabbed Kon’s t-shirt and tucked his face in against Kon. He bit his lip to keep quiet as his tears soaked into the old and worn cotton.

Kon held him. He planted gentle kisses into Tim’s hair. Tim shook as he cried. 

“I’m sorry,” Kon whispered, “I’m so sorry I left you-”

Tim shook his head and pushed away from Kon. He looked him in the eyes, tears still streaming down his face.

“Y-you didn’t  _ leave _ me.” Tim sniffed and tried to keep his voice quiet enough not to wake everyone around them. “You saved me. All of us. You saved the wh-whole world. I wouldn’t have been here to miss you if you hadn’t. And it was-"

Tim took a shuddering breath. "You dying was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to live with. But- but I lived with it. Because I was still around to live. And it sucked- it- I never blamed you for leaving. You didn’t leave me. You didn’t choose to- there wasn’t any other way, right? You didn’t ch-choose to-”

Kon put his hand against Tim’s cheek wiping the tears with his thumb. “No, no of course I didn’t- I fought as hard as I could. And I- I _ knew _ I might not make it, but I didn’t give up. I didn’t stop fighting. I didn’t- I didn’t want to die.”

Tim sobbed and put a hand across his mouth to muffle the sound. Kon pulled him back against him. Kon brought his legs up and curled himself around Tim, holding him close. It was a tight fit in the recliner, but Tim didn’t care. Kon was holding him. Kon was there.

"I missed you." Tim whispered into his hand, knowing Kon would be able to hear it. "I missed you so much. I didn't- I couldn't-"

Tim shook his head. He didn't know how to put it into words. He didn't know if he wanted to. Would it help him? Would it just hurt Kon? How should he tell him that he'd spiralled into a suicidal depression following his death? That he'd struggled with it ever since, and with all the other deaths since? That even with Kon back and holding him in his arms, it didn't make everything okay again?

"Hey, it's okay," Kon whispered. "I mean, it's okay if you can't, or don't, want to talk about it right now. Or if you do. Either way."

Tim pressed his forehead into Kon's shoulder, burying his face in the soft t-shirt fabric. He let himself cry, let himself just sit in the sadness. And in the comfort.

Eventually, his tears stopped. He settled in to a more comfortable position, with Kon still holding him and the two of them being just too big for the chair. Kon's hand found his. Tim was staring at their hands, a question burning in his throat. 

"Kon?" Tim spoke softly.

"Mm-hm?" Kon hummed quietly.

"I'm- I'm worried about- I don't want to just assume-" Tim took a deep breath. "I don't know how to be dating anymore."

Kon's hand gripped his tight. But his voice stayed even, "What does that mean?"

Tim rubbed the pad of his thumb in small circles over the side of Kon's hand.

"I mean, I don't think we can just pick up where we left off. I know it's only been days to you but…."

"But you're not the person I last saw a few days ago?" Kon asked gently.

"Yeah."

Kon nodded, his cheek resting against the top of Tim's head. "That's a fair point. It's- it's going to take me a bit to catch up. I'm sure a lot more happened in the time I've been gone other than Bart disappearing. And I'm probably going to step in it a lot while I'm catching up."

Kon squeezed Tim's hand again.

"I'd like to get to know you again. I think I'm going to like this Tim, I mean, I've liked every Tim before now."

Tim snorted, "You hated me when we first teamed up. You couldn't stand me."

Kon laughed, "Well, you were a shitty know-it-all who was too good for anyone else, so yeah, I wasn't an immediate fan. But that doesn't mean I didn't also think you were the coolest person ever and desperately wanted you to like me. Face it, Tim, I fell in love with you even knowing your annoying tween years. I'm kind of gone on you."

Tim pursed his lips. "I don't want you...feeling like you  _ have _ to like me now, because you liked me before."

"Okay," Kon said easily, "Let me just turn off my feelings. Wait- I don't think I have that switch."

"Kon, I'm serious-"

"I am too." Kon leaned back a bit. He waited until Tim turned to face him. "I get that this is weird. That this isn't going to be easy to navigate, or easy to bridge this huge weird thing that's happened. And if this is you telling me that you don't want this,  _ us,  _ anymore- then that's one thing."

Kon leaned in, pressing his forehead against Tim's.

"But if this is you worried about me, worried that wanting to be with me even if it's going to be hard, is somehow taking advantage, then hear this. I  _ want _ to be with you. I want whatever that means now. I want to get to know you again, to be here with you."

"I know things are weird and things have changed and maybe we won't fit together now like we used to. Maybe we won't ever again. But I'd like to find that out for myself." Kon smiled softly, "With you."

Tim nodded, his words stuck in his throat.

"Would kissing you be too much?"

Tim pursed his lips and shrugged. 

"Okay," Kon settled back into the chair, his arms still around Tim. 

Tim laid his head back down on Kon's chest. The steady heartbeat continued. Tim fell asleep, Kon still holding his hand.


	31. What it Sounds Like

The sound of the large front doors slamming echoed throughout the house. Followed by a yelling voice.

"Tim!"

Everyone in the den groaned as they were woken. Tim refused to open his eyes, instead burrowing his face further into the soft and warm cotton he was laying on.

What he was laying on laughed.

"Don't need super hearing for that." Kon whispered past Tim's ear. 

Bart and Cassie and Wally all more or less began to wake up. Piles of blankets and pillows shuffling and groaning.

"Who's shouting?" Bart yawned.

"Sounds like Steph," Kon replied. He turned his head towards the front of the house and squinted. "Yeah. It's Steph. I think Alfred's scolding her. And there's another girl there- black hair, Asian. Around Steph's age."

"Cass," Tim nodded, "My sister. Bruce adopted her almost a year ago. Her code-name is BlackBat."

"Not Bat-Girl?" Kon tilted his head to the side.

"Steph's Bat-Girl now."

Kon blinked. "Oh, cool. Good for her."

Tim nodded and gave up on going back to sleep. He sat up and climbed off of the recliner and Kon. Cassie raised her eyebrow at him. He shook his head.

Bart and Wally's stomachs gurgled loudly.

"Breakfast?" Wally asked.

Tim nodded and started for the door. "I'm sure Alfred's got something in the works." 

The den door swung open before he could turn the handle. Steph and Cass stood in front of him, Alfred hovering behind.

"You motherfucker-"

Steph grappled Tim into a hug. 

"Steph-"

" _ Language _ , Miss Stephanie-"

Tim hugged her back. Cass smiled at him over Steph's shoulder. She was giving him a look over.

Cass turned to Alfred, "Pancakes?"

Alfred sighed, "I suppose a brunch could do us all some good. If you wouldn't mind assembling everyone in the East dining room?"

Cass nodded and Alfred took off.

Steph finally let Tim go and took a look around the den.

"Oh, fuck." Steph blinked, "Oh, holy  _ shit _ ."

"Hey, Steph." Kon waved a little.

Bart zipped up to her, "Good to see you, gotta squeeze by, pancakes and all that."

Bart vanished off after Alfred. Wally sighed and took off after him.

Steph blinked and turned back to Tim. "Am I crazy or was that Bart?"

"I'll fill you in." Tim promised. 

-';;'-

Alfred managed to fill the table for a brunch. Wally had insisted on helping him. Alfred tried to refuse, his pride would not let a guest in the kitchen.

“Alfred, my man, I have been visiting for more than a decade now. I don’t think I count as a guest anymore.” Wally pointed out, “Besides, I won’t leave you hanging with two unexpected speedsters to feed. I make a mean omelette and I do dishes.”

Alfred relented. They all had their fill, even Bart and Wally.

“I do believe a grocery run is in order,” Alfred said to himself in the aftermath. “It is nice to have a full table again.”

Cass was watching Bart and Kon throughout the meal. Bart didn’t seem to notice. Kon seemed uncomfortable.

“Uh, do I have something on my face?” Kon asked her.

Cass smiled at him, “You are in pain. I can help.”

Cass left the room and returned with a pair of headphones. They were the ones Alfred and others used when working with loud power tools in the cave. She handed them to Kon. He raised his eyebrow at her, and turned to Tim. 

Tim shrugged. “Try them.”

Kon slipped the noise canceling headphones on. His expression turned surprised.

“Oh, wow. That’s so much better. I didn’t even realize-” Kon turned back to Cass, “How did you know?”

Cass smiled at him, “Easy to read.”

“Is your super-hearing acting up?” Cassie asked.

Kon shrugged, “It’s not like, coming in and out. But I guess it was on more than I thought.” He took a second, eyes closed, breathing softly. “Huh. I can’t bring it down.”

“Can you kick it up more?” Bart asked.

Kon’s face turned pinched. “Yeah. That works fine. Maybe I’ve got a new baseline?”

Cass patted Kon’s arm, “You can keep headphones. Gift from me.”

Kon fiddled with them, looking a little self-conscious. “Uh, thanks.”

“Hey, can you read me like that?” Bart asked, leaning to catch Cass’ gaze.

“Uh, maybe we can finish brunch first?” Steph interjected. “Cass, you should finish your food.”

Cass shrugged and took another bite. She gave Bart a more focused look over. Her expression turned concerned.

“Hurting.” She said, placing her hand over her forehead and then over her heart, “What is the phrase….  _ fight or flight _ ? Or freeze. Too ready for flight. Was normal to always flee?”

Bart’s demeanor lost his easy air. His eyes looked distant. “Yeah. Lots of running. For a really long time. You have some headphones for that?”

Cass tilted her head and squinted at him. She took another bite of breakfast. She got up from her chair and walked over to Bart. She telegraphed her movements, as she drew him into a hug.

“Human-headphones.” She said as Bart wrapped his arms around her. “It’s different, yes? To be held. Not like it was.”

Bart nodded, “Yeah. I guess it helps.”

Cass squeezed him and then withdrew, “Family is good for human-headphones. Makes it feel different.”

Wally leaned over and threw an arm around Bart’s shoulders. Bart relaxed back into the hold.

Cass nodded and went back to her seat. Tim reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. He signed ‘thank you.’ She smiled for him.

The doorbell rang. Alfred got it, and Barry joined them for the tail end of brunch, his arms laden with donut boxes. 

"Better late than never." Wally sighed.

"Hey, it's still technically morning."

The speedsters and Steph worked their way through the donuts. Tim stole one and split it with Cass. She seemed to really like the super sweet pastry.

“Oh, hey,” Tim nudged Cass’ arm, “I saw Damian.”

Cass’ eyebrows went up. “How is he?”

Tim shrugged, “He looked good. Definitely getting a lot of island sun. And he talked to me for a bit, asked me if I was okay.”

Steph gasped from across the room, “No way- really?”

“Yeah.” 

“When was that?” Cassie asked, “You were passed out when he came to see what was happening in the healing chambers.”

“He was in the rooms next to yours. We were both out on the balconies and talked for a bit.” Tim thought for a moment. “It was really dark and I was still a bit out of it, but I think he had a new massive scar on his arm. But other than that, he seemed okay.”

Cassie nodded, “Yeah, he had a huge scar. But it looked like it was healing fine.”

Dick cleared his throat. “So when do we invite him back? Things have mostly settled now, as much as they ever do in Gotham.”

“Uh, I don’t think it’s a good idea to bring him back just yet,” Tim voiced, “With Ra’s and the League of Assassins on the move, I think he’d be safer staying put for now.”

“We’d all be safer on a magical island isolated from the world,” Dick pointed out. “What’s our plan from bringing him home?”

“Why not implement a checklist, similar to Master Tim’s?” Alfred suggested. “Set a rubric and when he passes the benchmark, ask him if he’d like to return.”

Cass shook her head, “No. It would not be good for him. Not like for Tim. It would be a test- to him.”

“So what then?”

Cass pursed her lips and took a moment to think.

“Why don’t you just go check in with him?” Barry asked around a mouthful of donuts. “Tim only talked to him for, what, a few minutes?”

“Not even,” Tim replied.

“Yeah. So just go check on him. Get a better gauge for how he’s doing.” Barry swallowed and cleared his throat. “Also, who’s Damian?”

“Bruce’s secret kid with Talia Al Ghul,” Stephanie explained, “He was raised by the League of Assassins and then Talia shoved him on Bruce like eight months ago? Nine? He tried to kill Tim, like, the second day he was here. So we then had to keep him basically isolated at one of our safe-houses while trying to um,  _ un _ -indoctrinate him. But then Bruce died, so Cass asked Cassie if he could go hang on wonder island until things cooled off.”

Barry blinked at her. “Wow. That’s-”

“He tried to kill you?” Kon asked Tim.

Tim sighed, “Yeah. It was bad. But I recovered. And I do really think he’s doing better now.”

“Jesus, next you’re going to be saying  _ Red Hood _ ’s reformed or some other batshit heel-face-turn.”

Tim, Dick, Steph, Cass, and Alfred all looked at each other. 

“...actually-”

“Oh my god.”

“No- he’s not  _ perfect _ , but we’ve reached a truce of sorts.” Steph explained.

“Look, a lot has happened since you’ve been gone.” Tim sighed.

“Wait- Red Hood? The guy who went on a murder spree a couple years back?” Barry asked.

“Ok, so here’s the thing-”

It was a long, long brunch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was like pulling teeth. I think I started two other stories while trying to wrestle this into shape. Ugh.


	32. Estranged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oof, this ended up pretty long. Welcome back to the action!

The long morning bled into the afternoon. People were mostly relaxed, just chatting, catching up. Tim, Steph, and Cassie were showing Bart and Kon all the memes they’d missed, much to Barry’s amusement and confusion. 

All at once, phones were going off, a very specific alarm blaring out. Dick, Steph, and Cass all grabbed for their phones, Tim leaned over to look at Steph’s. He read Oracle’s alert over her shoulder.

_ Large scale gun fight in progress in the diamond district. At least three different mob families identified on scene. Separate incident occurring at the Iceberg Lounge- gunfire also reported. _

“Shit.” Dick swore.

They all jumped to their feet and sprinted to the Cave. Wally, Barry, Bart, Kon, and Cassie followed behind.

“What’s happening?” Cassie asked.

“Fallout?” Tim called, “We’ve been waiting for something to kick off a fight between the mob families and crime bosses. Seems today’s the day.”

“They couldn’t wait until sunset?” Steph complained as she rushed to the lockers.

“That might be on purpose,” Dick called out, also throwing on his suit, “They could be purposefully trying to avoid our interference.”

Wally and Barry were at the Bat-computer with Alfred, getting the full breakdown from Oracle.

“Looks like there’s another incident,” Wally called out, “Someone’s just blown a hole in the side of Sionis Industries’ headquarters.”

“Fuck,” Steph swore. 

Cassie looked at Tim, “Do you still have my spare set here?”

Tim nodded, “Last locker on the left.”

“Where do you need us?” Barry asked Dick. 

Dick looked at him and Wally. “Clearing civilians is our top priority. One of you can help clear the diamond district, another should head to downtown and clear people out around the Sionis building. Grab one of our comms.” Dick pointed to the counters that housed their tech.

“Where do you need me?” Bart asked.

Dick grimaced. Barry put up his hand and turned to Bart.

“You’re not going out.”

“What? C’mon! I gave superboy prime a smackdown  _ yesterday.  _ I’m fine!”

“Bart, please.” Barry put his hands on Bart’s shoulders. “We just got you back. I’m not saying you’re incapable of going out, I’m asking you not to. Please. For me.”

“But-”

“You can help run comms here from the cave,” Wally pointed out. “And I’m seconding that request. Please. If you go out I’ll be worried and distracted and probably run headlong into a wall. So please, for us. Stay in.”

Bart still looked uncertain.

“Plus we need you to make sure Tim doesn’t go out.”

“Hey!” Tim replied, affronted.

Bart nodded, “Yeah, okay. I can do that.”

“How about you, Kon?” Steph asked, “You cleared to fly?”

“Yea-”

“ _ NO! _ ” Three voices all said in unison.

Kon blinked, “...no. Apparently. I guess I’m also on Tim-duty.”

“ _ Ohmyfuckinggod, _ ” Tim grumbled under his breath. “I don’t need babysitters.”

“So we should go out?” Kon asked, pointing at himself and Bart.

Tim narrowed his eyes, “....no.”

“Tim-duty it is,” Kon nodded.

“Steph and I should go to Iceberg,” Cass was discussing with Dick, “You head to Sionis.”

Oracle’s voice came through the batcave’s speakers, “Batwoman in enroute to the diamond district.” 

“I’ll go give her a hand,” Cassie said as she grabbed a comm.

“Alright, let’s head out,” Dick announced, “Stay safe, stay connected. This probably isn’t the end of it.”

Everyone nodded. Wally grabbed Dick and took off. Barry offered a lift to Cass and Steph. They disappeared in a blur of red. Cassie nodded to everyone and flew off.

Tim slid into his seat at the computer. Alfred let him take the helm, switching to monitoring the police scanner. Bart and Kon crowded around Tim’s chair.

“Do we have IDs on any of our players?” Tim asked, pulling up the large criminal database. 

Oracle highlighted the Marconis and Falcones. It was always somehow the Marconis and the Falcones.

“I spy a Galante boy,” Steph reported. 

“Dubelz,” Kate’s voice came over the comms. “And I see some of Moxon’s goons.”

“No apparent aggressors at Sionis,” Dick reported. “But they might be having a party inside.”

Tim updated the database, cross referencing the videos Cass and Dick’s cowls were transmitting. 

“Everyone else seemed to get the invitation,” Kate scoffed. “How come we didn’t see this coming?”

“We did,” Tim replied, “We just didn’t have an RSVP on our calendars.”

“Isn’t this why you all bother with Red Hood?” Kate grunted. The sound of heavy hits transmitted over her line. “He didn’t know about this?”

“He hasn’t responded,” Oracle said. “I’m not getting any reports from Crime Alley or the surrounding burrows.”

Someone’s phone rang from the lockers. Bart zipped over and came back with Steph’s smartphone.

“Is this important?” He held it up to Tim.

Tim didn’t recognize the number. “Steph, you’re getting a call on your cell phone. Out of state area code.”

“Do the numbers spell out an insult?”

Tim looked. 277-4653 aka ASS-HOLE. “Yes.”

“That’s Hood! Pick up!”

Tim slid the phone icon and put it on speaker. “Hello?”

“It’s a distraction!” Jason’s voice yelled out. “They’re heading for the Cave!”

“Who is?”

“League of As-!”

The call dropped. And the lights in the Cave flickered. Tim could hear the system switching to back up generators, someone had cut the main lines.

“Uh,” Kon took off the headphones, “I hear very quiet footsteps, but no heart beats.”

“Oh, good.” Tim said sarcastically. He quickly initiated lock-down sequences on the bat-computer. The comm lines shut down and the speakers cut out. “That means they’re elites. Top ranking ninjas.”

Alfred quickly walked to the weapon racks. He clicked a button and a secret compartment opened. He pulled out a shotgun and ammo.

“What’s our play?” Bart asked, eyes dancing around.

Tim shrugged. “Play it by ear at first, but be ready to run. Can you grab my belt and staff for me from my-”

Bart handed him his gear.

“Thanks.”

“They’re getting closer,” Kon warned. “Several in the vehicle bay.”

Bart snorted, “Are they here to jack the Batmobile?”

“The vehicle bay has the most exits.” Tim explained as he fastened his belt over his jeans. He slid his back-up comm in his ear. Static. Figured.

“We  _ do _ have a front door.” Alfred called out into the Cave. He cocked his shotgun. “We do not take kindly to trespassers.”

Kon and Bart gave Tim a look. Tim shrugged. “Alfred never swore any non-lethal oath.”

“Oh, come now,” A sultry woman’s voice replied. She stepped up from the lower cavern, green silk robe catching the light beautifully. “I’m family.”

_ Talia. _

Alfred raised his gun, keeping it trained on her. “I question your use of the term.”

Talia raised her eyebrow. She stepped closer, stopping once she reached the main level. She looked each of them over, her expression giving nothing away.

“I use it as I intend.” Talia responded. “I am, afterall, here in my capacity as a mother.”

Tim gripped his hands into fists. Kon’s eyes were darting around, he was frowning. Probably meant they were being surrounded. Great.

“Again, I question your use,” Alfred replied.

Talia sighed at him, “You can make this either very easy, or very painful. Where is my son? ”

Alfred glared at her, but didn’t respond. Tim cleared his throat and took a step forward, Talia’s gaze snapped to him.

“It’s funny, that’s the second time an Al Ghul has asked me that in a week.” Tim watched Talia absorb his words. Her neutral expression slipped into a glare. 

“Damian is no longer safe,” Talia said, her voice dripping with impatience. “You will return him to me, or I will kill all of you and find him anyway.”

“Yeah, not gonna happen,” Tim said, “For one thing, he’s not here. For another-”

Tim threw a bird-arang. 

A lot of things happened at once. Talia drew a sword and deflected the bird-arang. Alfred fired the shot gun. Several needles came flying at them from all around the cave. Kon moved, super fast, covering Tim. But by the time he was there, there wasn’t anything to cover him from. Bart had grabbed all of the projectiles mid-flight.

Talia dodged the shotgun fire by ducking behind a cabinet. The metal crumpled under the force of the shot hitting it.

Bart ran up to her, holding out all of the needles. “You dropped these.”

Talia swung out at him, but Bart was already back next to Tim. “She doesn’t seem very nice.”

“No, she doesn’t.” Tim readied his bo staff. “Do you think you guys can take care of the ninjas?”

“I can’t see them,” Bart whispered.

“I’ll draw them out for you,” Kon took a steady stance. His eyes glowed red.

“Dude, sweet,” Bart smirked.

“Don’t underestimate them,” Tim warned, “They’re elite for a reason.”

“Okay,” Kon and Bart nodded.

Alfred fired off another shot, Talia dodging behind equipment as she ran closer. Tim ran to intercept her.

Kon fired his heat vision. The whole cave was bathed in a deep red light. Ninja’s dropped from the surrounding rock as they hurried to get out of the path of destruction. Bart ran in.

Talia’s sword clanged heavily against Tim’s bo staff. He focused on dodging and blocking. Talia was more than skilled, he couldn’t underestimate her. She made a swing for his neck, intending to decapitate him. Tim dropped flat on his back to dodge. Alfred fired his shot-gun.

Talia screamed as she failed to completely dodge. Her left arm was torn and bleeding.

“Pardon my language,” Alfred snarled, “But get the fuck away from my grandson.”

Tim laughed, swinging around and back up onto his feet . He swung out at her, Talia backed up. Tim didn’t pursue her. She wasn’t beat yet.

More ninjas came out of the shadows, not waiting for Kon to flush them out. Alfred was forced to duck behind a uniform case to avoid being struck by their projectiles. Tim dodged behind one of the computer terminals.

Tim looked over just in time to see several flash-bangs being lobbed at Kon.

“Cover!” Tim yelled a warning.

They went off, a deafening cacophony of thundering cracks rang out, along with blinding flashes. Several smoke bombs also went off in quick succession. Two ninjas came rushing at Tim, swords drawn. Tim flipped over the terminal and away from them.

“Plan B! Plan B!” Tim yelled out, his own ears still ringing. He dodged strikes from the two on him, narrowly keeping ahead and away. The smoke was invading his lungs, causing him to cough and his eyes to water.

There was a distant explosion. It came from below, probably in one of the cave’s tunnels.

Bart was next to him suddenly, grabbing him around the hip and putting a hand behind his head. Bart took off with him. They came to a stop in the trophy room. It was out of the immediate area, no smoke had drifted in yet. Alfred was already there, reloading his gun. A second later Bart appeared again with Kon. Bart bent over, his hands on his knees. 

“Geez man, you’re heavier than Alfred.” Bart complained.

Kon had his hands over his ears, his eyes shut. Tim went to him, tapping his shoulder twice. Kon opened his eyes, but he didn’t lower his hands. 

Tim pointed to his ears. “Can you hear?”

Kon shook his head.

“Okay, which way out?” Bart asked.

Tim looked at Alfred. “I do believe that I heard an explosion in the vehicle bay.”

“So we go towards it?” Bart asked.

“An explosion means someone else is fighting them,” Alfred reasoned, “It’s a possibility at any rate.”

Bart shrugged, “Works for me.”

Tim tapped Kon’s arm again. He signed  _ vehicle ba _ y to him. Kon looked lost. Right. The team had all learned to sign after he’d died. Tim pulled a pen from his belt and wrote it on Kon’s arm. Kon nodded.

Bart took up his position next to Alfred, hand cushioning his neck against whiplash. “We ready?”

Tim grabbed onto Kon and Kon picked him up. Tim gave him a thumbs up.

The vehicle bay was a flaming wreck. Cars and bikes were on fire, the Batmobile had a crater blown in it. Gunshots rang out over the crackle of the flames. Alfred raised his gun and began to inch forward. Kon got level with him, ready to act as a shield. Tim and Bart followed behind.

“So which way out?” Bart asked. 

Tim tried to see through the black smoke that was rapidly filling the cavern. He couldn’t see the east and south tunnels, but the north and west ones looked clear. At least clear of debris. It was hard to know if they were clear of ninjas.

“Um, maybe the-”

Tim was cut off as another loud round of gunfire echoed around the bay. Accompanied by a shout.

“Yeah, get fucked! Who’s fucking town did you think you were in?!”

Ah. Tim coughed to clear his throat. “Hood!!”

Multiple people came barreling around the flaming wreckage towards them. Alfred fired, Kon cut across the ground with his heat vision, stopping most of them from advancing. Hood came flipping over the Batmobile, guns blazing.

The ninjas took off, dodging away into the deeper levels of the cave.

Hood hoofed it over to them, his guns still trained on the direction the ninjas had fled. “Hey, Replacement. Alfie. What’s the situation?”

“Talia,” Tim informed him, “She’s here for Damian.”

Hood sighed, “Figures. He here?”

“No.”

“Good. Who’re these two?” Hood inclined his head towards Kon and Bart.

“Superboy and Kid Flash.”

Hood looked at him and then looked back at them. 

“What- really?”

“You no longer have a monopoly on returning from the dead.” Tim informed him. “We need to get out of here, regroup.”

“And leave Talia in the Cave?” Hood gestured with his gun. “Sure, whatever, let’s just give her the deed.”

“I’m not exactly firing on all cylinders right now,” Tim told him, “And they took out Superboy’s hearing. We need to regroup. Get back-up.”

“What, did you think I stopped by for some tea?” Hood scoffed.

“We don’t have time for-”

A flash bang went off at the entrance to the bay. Everyone shielded their eyes. Ninjas came charging back in, more than before.

Tim made a snap decision, “Bart- North tunnel! See if it’s clear.”

Bart zipped away. More projectiles came hurtling at all of them. Hood dodged away, sliding behind a crumpled motorcycle, firing as he went. Kon shielded Alfred.

Tim tried to follow Hood, but was a second too slow. Several needles struck his leg as he slid.

“Fuck,” Tim quickly pulled them out. Some clear liquid dripped from their tips. “ _ Fuck. _ ”

“You hit?” Hood asked, firing over their cover.

“Poison. Three needles.” Tim could feel his heartbeat in his ears. His leg was rapidly losing feeling.

“Fuck,” Hood cursed. He peaked over the bike, “We’ve got incoming.”

Bart zipped back in. He knelt next to Tim, “North tunnel’s clear.”

“Take him,” Hood ordered, “Get him to a hospital. He’s been poisoned.”

Bart grabbed Tim, hauling him up and away in the blink of an eye.

“Which hospital?” Bart asked, skidding to a stop outside of the tunnel entrance.

Tim was panting, his skin was getting clammy and cold. “Goth-Gotham Central. They have a poison/venom response wing. It’s downtown.”

Bart took off. Tim couldn’t tell if it was the speed they were moving at or the poison causing everything around him to blur and twist. They stopped, several people around them gasped.

“He’s poisoned, where do I take him?” Bart asked quickly.

“Uh-”

“What floor? What room?” Bart demanded.

“Did you just-?”

“I’m a Flash-” Bart hastily explained, “He’s dying! Where do I take him?!”

“First floor, west wing, in Emergency. I’ll call them-”

Bart took off. Tim’s breathing was getting very labored. His heart was beating fast in his ears. He couldn’t follow the voices around him, the people moving him and putting him on a flat surface.

“Go- go back.” Tim said. He thinks he said it to Bart, but his vision was blurring really bad. It was also getting pretty dark. Someone gripped his hand tightly.

And then they let go.


	33. Bereft

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I don't know enough about the council of spiders to include them. So I'm taking liberties, but hey, it's my canon now.

Tim was awake throughout his treatment. Doctors and nurses asked him questions and he did his best to answer. Yes, he was on medication- his antidepressants. No, nothing else. No, he didn't know what he'd been injected with. He gave them a fake name, Allen Draper, one of his defaults. They asked about who to call for him, asked him about his parents. He didn't have to pretend much about being too confused to answer them.

Tim couldn't see straight. His head was pounding, his skin was clammy and cold. The numbness from his leg had spread upwards, wrapping around his torso. They had him on an IV, just liquids, to help flush his system out.

He had a seizure. They added more things to his IV. 

They took blood to run for a better idea of what was in his system. It took hours to get any results back. Long, fearful hours.

Tim thought about everyone. If the whole mob infighting had been a set-up, were there more traps for them? Or was the assault on the Cave the only overt action Talia had taken? Had everyone else made it out of the Cave? And was Damian all Talia was really after?

Tim knew he'd shut down the computer. Knew it would take hours for anyone to try and boot it back up, there were safeguards built in to prevent it. If anyone tried to force it, the cpu would simply self-destruct.

Oracle had back-ups of the Cave's systems. But it would be a nightmare to try and set up a new computer system from scratch. 

As the hours crept onward, Tim began to worry more and more about Bart, Kon, and Alfred. Even Jason. If they had made it out of the Cave, why weren't they here? Was there really more going on? Was the chaos around Gotham keeping them busy? Had they even made it out of the Cave?

All at once, Tim's room was full of activity again. Doctors and nurses fiddling with things, disconnecting his IV from the stand and putting it on his bed.

"What's happening?" Tim asked, his voice still rough from smoke inhalation. 

"We're taking you for an ultrasound. We need to know if any of your organs are reacting badly to the poison." A nurse explained to him. "Don't worry, sweetheart, we're gonna take care of you. Have you remembered your parents phone number yet? Or place of work? Your home address?"

Tim coughed and put on a show of not being able to respond. He was wheeled into a place where they scanned his organs, his leg, and took more blood samples. Whatever the results were, the doctors didn't look hopeful.

"What is it?" Tim asked.

"Well, it's both good and bad, Mr Draper." They explained to him. "It looks like the amount of whatever you were injected with was not a lethal dose. We're beginning to see its effects tapper off, as your body is processing the substance."

Tim nodded. "What's the bad news?"

The doctor sighed, "It looks like a few of your organs took some substantial damage before your body managed to break the substance down. Mainly your spleen, and we're seeing some indication of kidney failure."

"Oh," Tim blinked. His head hurt so bad, his breathing was labored and the weird numbness was still prevalent. "What- what can you do for it?"

"We're waiting for some final tests to come back, but we're pretty sure we're going to have to perform surgery. To remove your spleen, and possibly one of your kidneys."

"Remove…?"

The doctor nodded, "This is a pretty extreme and unique case. I've never heard of any drug or chemical that would be this targeted. But regardless, your spleen, and possibly your kidney, is shutting down. Heading into organ failure that could have devastating effects on the rest of your body. We need to remove them before necrosis sets in."

"...oh."

"I know this is a lot to take in, Allen. We really need to contact your parents. Can you help us do that?"

Tim tried to think. He didn't know what anyone was doing, what anyone's status was. He couldn't- wait. Tim mentally slapped his face.  _ Oracle. _

Tim rattled off one of the phone numbers Oracle used for when they were undercover but still needed to send messages along. Babs knew his common aliases, 'Allen Draper' should catch her attention. And she could figure out how to help Tim from there.

Tim blamed his lack of planning on the poison. And the concussion. And his organs quitting on him. He really wasn't doing great.

Whatever Babs was doing didn't happen before Tim was rushed into surgery. The anesthesiologist was helping him count backwards, but all Tim could think about was his family, if they were okay, and if he'd ever see any of them again.

"93, 92, 91..."

  
  


Tim woke up in a hospital bed. His head felt stuffy, his limbs were heavy. He was in surprisingly little pain.

The lights in the room were low, just enough to see by. There were other beds around him, some occupied, some empty. Most were hidden behind their curtains. The sounds of multiple heart monitors beeped over each other. There was a chair next to his bed, but no one was in it.

Tim clicked his call button. A few minutes later, a nurse came in.

"Well, Mr Draper, how are you feeling?" They asked kindly.

Tim blinked at them. Draper? Right, his cover.

"Um, good? No pain." Tim coughed. His throat was very dry and very sore. "Ugh, almost."

"You're doing very well, post procedure." The nurse told him. "All of you vitals are looking great."

"Uh- did, did they contact my family?" Tim asked. He couldn't tell what time it was. There were no clocks and no windows that he could see. 

"They did. I just saw your mom down the hallway at the vending machine. I'm sure she'll be right back. Do you want me to go get her?"

Tim nodded.  _ His mom _ ? Who-? Neither Cass nor Steph could pull off a disguise to be old enough to be his mother. So who-?

A wheelchair came rolling into his field of vision. She had a wig on and some very contoured makeup to disguise her facial features, but Tim relaxed instantly when he saw her.

"Hey, Mom." He smiled at her.

"Hey, kid," Babs rolled up to his side and grabbed his hand. "You really scared me there."

Tim waited until the nurse finished their check ups and left. Babs kept a grip on his hand.

"What's going on? Is everyone-? Are they okay?" Tim asked in a whisper.

"Everyone's fine." Babs assured him. "Everyone got out okay. More incidents kept springing up. We had to cover a lot of ground. I'm sorry it took me so long to get your message."

Tim shook his head, "It took me too long to send it. I'm just glad you're here. Actually, why is it you here?"

Babs raised an eyebrow. "We still can't spare anyone from the field. Too much is going on. But I can work remotely," Babs held up her phone. "A's at the clock tower. He would've been here instead of me, but his injuries would have raised too many questions."

"Injuries?"

Babs waved him down, "He's fine. It's mostly superficial bruising. But when you're that old and that pale, bruises tend to look more severe."

They spoke for a while, going over the current clusterfuck that was Gotham. Almost every mob head and family were involved in some way. Babs reckoned the League has pulled strings by infiltrating and then carrying out certain acts to jump start the whole thing.

"A lot of people just so happened to be in the same place at the same time, before it all kicked off," Babs relayed quietly, "Definitely orchestrated."

"But why now? Why Gotham? Talia had to have known that Damian wasn't here."

"Maybe she was reacting to Ra's?" Babs shrugged, "He moved on you in Rome. So she struck here. She might've figured Ra's knew something she didn't, and been forced to make a more direct approach."

"Is she still at the Cave?"

Babs shook her head, "SB did a pass. No one inside. We don't have enough manpower to go check it or the house for traps yet. So we haven't tried to go back."

"So she's on the loose again."

Babs sighed, "With the whole city involved in this mess, it'll be impossible to track her. Not that it was so easy before all this."

"Right," Tim sighed. "Great."

Babs patted his arm. "Hey, look on the bright side. You have hospital food to look forward to."

Tim glared at her.

"I'm just kidding." Babs rolled her eyes, "As soon as it's safe to, we're springing you. Allen Draper exists for now, but it won't hold up to scrutiny."

Tim nodded, "Yeah. Okay."

Babs moved her hand to Tim's head. She carded her fingers through his sweaty hair.

"You hang in there. We don't go down easy, yeah?"

Tim nodded, relaxing into the feeling. "Yeah."


	34. Stuck, Stay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bit of a short one, but still lots of feels

Two days post surgery, Tim was spirited out of Gotham Central. Babs- or  _ Ms. Draper-  _ left to 'go get some rest'. And thirty minutes past visiting hours, Tim suddenly had a visitor next to his bed. 

Wally pulled the curtains more closed around them.

"You ready?" He asked quietly.

"Grab the IV bag from the stand," Tim directed him. "And help me take off the diodes."

Wally unhooked him from his monitors, which sent them into alarm mode. But before the third beep could sound, Tim was already out of the hospital, the world a blur around him.

Wally got him to the Clock Tower. He gently set him up in a bed that had been prepared. It was in a side room, a floor down from Oracle's main operating room. Even so, Tim could hear the commotion of people moving around.

"And how was your trip on Speedster Express?" Wally asked him as he brought an IV stand over.

"I'm okay," Tim told him. "Thanks."

Wally placed his bag on the stand and wheeled over a much smaller heart rate/oxygen monitor. He helped Tim lean forward as he attached the new sensors.

"You're feeling pretty light," Wally commented. "Might be giving Bart a run for his money. Ha.  _ Run _ ."

"I just lost a major organ and have been bedridden since. Gee, I wonder why I might be losing weight."

"But not your bitting wit, I see," Wally grinned as he helped Tim lay back onto the pillows. He ruffled Tim's gross, sweaty hair. "But for real- does anything feel different after the run? Did I jostle anything loose or pull any stitches?"

Tim shifted slightly, feeling the pull of his closing wound. "I think we're good."

Wally gave him a smile. "I'm sure everyone who's not on duty is going to want to come see you. Are you up for visitors? Just family?"

Tim blinked at him. The meds in his IV were keeping his pain managed and his thoughts a little fuzzy.

"Why would-? My family's not-  _ oh.  _ Right. Yeah. They can come in. I might fall asleep on them, but that's not my problem."

Wally gave him a worried look, "You doing alright?"

Tim shook his head, "Not at all." He laughed, "But that's kind of the normal for me."

Wally shook his head. "You really do take after him."

Tim tilted his head in confusion.

"Bruce." Wally clarified. He ruffled Tim's hair again, "I'm gonna go let them all know you're in and settled. Hang in there, kid."

"You're only, like, five years older than me." Tim grumbled, but Wally was already gone. It took him a second to parse what Wally had said.

He was hit with a wave of grief. Everything had been so chaotic in the past week. The past few days were a haze of pain meds and patchy sleep.

He missed Bruce. He missed him so intensely. He wanted the next person to come through the door to be his dad. He wanted him to sit at his bedside, put his giant calloused hand on his head, and tell him things were going to be okay.

Tim's thoughts drifted to the search that had been interrupted. The loose and vague data points that only hinted at the possibility of a man lost in time.

Tim couldn't currently get out of bed without assistance. He was so far off where he needed to be. What he needed to be doing. What  _ Bruce _ needed him to be doing.

The door opened. Steph's bright blonde hair was obvious even in the low lighting.

"Hey," She said quietly, "You really up for some company?"

Tim reached for her. His words were stuck in his throat. She crossed the room and took his hand in hers.

"Hey, hey," Steph said softly, "I'm here. Everyone's okay. We're both here. Still here."

Tim felt the tears gathering in his eyes.

"B-Bart? And Kon?"

"Both still alive. Bart went back to Central City yesterday. Kon's been helping with surveillance here. He should be getting back in the next shift change. We've got backup in from the Titans and the League." Steph filled him in.

Tim sniffed. He felt tears slid down his cheeks.

"I want-" Tim stopped himself.

"What?" Steph squeezed his hand. "What do you want? What can I get you?"

Tim shook his head. "It's not…...I want Bruce. I want my dad."

Steph's jaw clenched. 

"Sorry. It's- I'm being stupid-"

"You're  _ not _ ." Steph interrupted. "Of course you want your dad.  _ I  _ want your dad. I want Bruce back so much. We all miss him and I know, even with your time search, we need to wait for all the facts but-"

Steph blinked back her own tears, "I want him back, too. We're gonna get him back. If he's out there to get- we're gonna get him. None of this stuff- with the mobs, with Ra's or Talia- none of it is going to stop us."

Tim let his tears fall. "How? I can't- I can't even-"

" _ We _ are going to keep looking. You weren't alone before, you're not alone now." Steph drew in a deep breath, "And you know what? I think we should pull in more people. Fucking Superman, or even Wonder Woman. And all the Titans- I don't think there's any point in keeping things under wraps anymore. Fucking Ra's knows what's up. Cat's out of the bag."

Tim bit his lip, "But what if I'm wrong? What if it's not him?"

"Then we'll deal with that when we can prove it." Steph stated bluntly. "You've never been shy about following an investigation through before, even when they turned up nothing in the end."

"It's not just another investigation- if- if he's not really out there then…."

Steph nodded, "Then it's like he's died all over again."

Tim wiped at his face. "Yeah."

Steph sighed, "I still think we should call in more backup. But I'm willing to table that whole thing until you're doing better."

Tim gave her a small smile, "You're very generous."

"Fuck yeah I am." Steph kicked off her shoes, "Budge over. If we're gonna be crying I'm enacting a cuddle session."

Steph stayed with him. They both laid in the bed together, warm and weepy and snotty. They stayed together in the small, dimly lit room and listened to the muffled footsteps of the heroes upstairs.


	35. Tic-Toc

Steph took off after a few hours to head home and check in with her mom. She promised to be back as soon as she could and maybe even try to sneak him some caffeine. 

Tim wasn't sure if he could have caffeine yet or not. He was on a regiment of so many antibiotics and pain-killers that he needed a chart to keep track of them. Alfred came by after Steph left and went over his meds with him. The chart was pinned on the wall next to his bed. It was color coded and written in Alfred's tight scrawl. Every time he looked at it, Tim could hear Alfred's voice in his head reading off his next dose.

Tim had a phone appointment with Dr. Leslie scheduled for the next day. Probably just to go over any red flags to keep an eye on, but Tim knew he'd get reprimanded for getting hurt. Leslie was never shy about how dangerous their lifestyle was, and how little patience she had for it.

Tim made a mental note to do some more in-depth research of his own. Once he could stomach the idea of missing an organ better. 

It didn't feel real, even as he could feel the pull of the stitches and incision wound. He was missing his spleen. It was different from breaking a bone or getting a new scar. A person didn't really 'recover' from losing a spleen. Yeah, they could live with it, survive by being careful and taking good care of the other organs that would pick up the slack. But it wouldn't mend like a bone or heal like scar tissue. He would always be lacking now.

Tim wondered if he could talk to Barbara about it. Wondered if she'd take offense to him comparing it to her spinal injury. Objectively, he knew Babs would want him to talk to her. But the thought of it made him apprehensive. 

Dick came by later, early in the AM going by the clock on the wall. It struck Tim as being odd, needing a wall clock while literally living in a clock tower. But the chimes only went off every hour, so he got it. It just seemed weird to think about.

"Hey, Tim," Dick quietly slid into the room. "Oh, man. Can I squeeze in with you? I don't want to jar anything but I need me some Timmy cuddles."

Tim scooted over for him like he had for Steph. Tim was pretty sure his bed was a full instead of a twin for that very purpose. Whoever had set up his room clearly knew his family.

Dick wrapped himself around Tim. He was careful not to knock the IV or any bandages. 

"How is everything?" Tim asked.

"Hmmm," Dick hummed, tucking Tim's head under his chin, "Still pretty crazy. We've spotted a few League ninjas here and there as we've been patrolling or responding to more firefights. None of them have engaged with anyone yet, but who knows what Talia's planning. And it looks like a lot of the gangs are jumping into things now. Taking whatever opportunity they get. The whole city is on lock down, but of course the GCPD doesn't have the man-power to actually enforce a curfew."

"So, a clusterfuck."

Dick nodded, "I'm so glad we called in backup. The Flashes alone have kept casualties down by the hundreds. Kaldur and Garth are keeping an eye on the docks so we can focus on the city proper."

"Who else is here?" Tim asked. He hated not being in the know. He was still sleeping more hours than he was awake due to his meds, but his fingers itched for a keyboard. 

"Uh, it's been a rotating roster. But I think right now we have Kon, Kaldur, and Garth. Wally's here now, but he should be swapping with Barry at some point this morning. Kori and Raven are also out on patrol. And I think more Leaguers are coming this afternoon."

“Cassie?” Tim asked.

“Handling a Titans thing. The world doesn’t stop just ‘cause Gotham’s on fire.”

Tim nodded, "Any injuries? Aside from me."

Dick held him tighter. "No one got hit as bad as you. Alfred's got some bruises from the cave fight, but you've seen him since then, right?"

Tim nodded. The side of Alfred's face and neck had been a mottled mess of blues and purples. He hadn't looked too affected by it, but it was still hard to see. 

"I think Bart had trouble getting sleep, it's why he went back to Central. I don't think it's related to any physical injury, but Barry and Wally didn't want him to risk it." Dick recounted, "Kate took some bad blows that first day, but no broken bones as far as I know. And Kon's hearing came back in a few hours after the fight in the cave."

"He's okay?" Tim asked.

"Yeah, he's okay." Dick reassured him, "He's out doing recon right now. He should be back before dawn."

Tim let out a deep sigh. He wanted to see Kon. He trusted Dick and Steph, but he still wanted to see him, have him in the same room. He wanted to see Bart too. Maybe he could beg a phone off someone and video chat. He really needed to get a new phone.

Dick stayed with him, talking about his patrols and what was going on with the different mobs. Eventually Tim fell asleep on him, his meds knocking him out again. 

Tim woke up, still held in Dick's arms, as the door to his room opened again. Kon came in, carrying a six pack of a sports drink.

"Hey, sorry, I didn't mean to wake you." Kon shut the door behind him.

"I was awake," Dick yawned.

Kon rolled his eyes, "I meant Tim. You know, the actual patient?"

Dick laughed, "Oh I see, no one worried about poor ol' me."

Kon snorted, "So you don't want any of these?" He held up the sports drinks.

Dick reached across Tim, "Gimme. I run on electrolytes."

Kon handed him one and held one out to Tim as well. "Alfred said you could have one if you want."

Tim took it. He tried not to drink the whole thing in one go. He knew he was getting the fluids he needed via the IV. But that didn't help with dry mouth.

"How are you?" Kon asked as he pulled up a chair.

Tim shrugged and shifted so that he was sitting up more. Dick helped him move his pillows.

"As well as I can be. I'm not in pain. Not really. Been keeping up on my meds."

Kon nodded. There was a beat of silence.

Dick cleared his throat. "You know, I think I'll go bug Babs to take a nap."

Dick got up and went to the door. He winked very obviously at Tim before heading out.

"So he hasn't changed much," Kon commented with a smile.

"I wouldn't say that." Tim said. "Dick's lost a lot recently. And he's trying to be there for everyone, even though it's been hard for him too."

Kon grimaced, "Right. Bruce."

Tim nodded, "He wanted to take over the cowl. Right after Bruce died. I think he's still considering it."

"And that would be...bad?" Kon asked.

Tim nodded, "He doesn't want to be Batman. He didn't before we lost Bruce."

Kon nodded, " _ Is _ there a plan for someone to inherit the cowl? Did Bruce want to pass it on, like the Flash?"

Tim shook his head, "I don't know. Bruce never talked about it."

Kon looked at him, eyes searching. 

“Do  _ you _ want to be Batman someday?”

Tim inhaled sharply. His gut reaction was to say no. No, it was Bruce’s title. Tim couldn’t think of Batman without thinking of the man behind the mask. He couldn’t imagine ever donning the cowl. Especially without being able to talk to Bruce about it.

“I don’t think I could.” Tim said, his voice scratchy. He took a sip of the sports drink, it was almost too sweet. “I mean, I’m not exactly the right build. And it doesn’t look like I’ll end up being much taller.”

Kon smiled sadly at him, “I don’t think the silhouette is the most important part.”

“It’s a good chunk,” Tim joked, “I’ve seen people turn themselves in from just seeing his shadow.”

Kon laughed. “Hey, would it be okay if I lay down with you?”

“Yeah,” Tim pat the spot next to him. “Everyone else got a turn.”

Kon wiggled his eyebrows and Tim snickered. Kon was warm next to him. He held Tim’s hand, stroked his knuckles with the pad of his thumb. Kon yawned and was out soon after. Tim took the time to just look at him. His face looked younger while he slept, the tension eased. Tim watched Kon’s chest move with his breathing, felt his grip get slack as he fell deeper asleep.

Tim shifted his grip to have his fingers over Kon’s pulse point. He listened as the beeps from his heart rate monitor slowly synced up. He fell asleep again, warm and comforted.

A soft knock sounded at the door before it gently swung open. Tim raised his head, blinking at his newest visitor.

Oliver Queen came in. He was mostly out of uniform, just in his compression layer with a sweatshirt thrown over it. He was carrying a tray with a few bowls and cups on it. Oliver spotted Tim and then Kon still passed out on the bed next to him.

“Some make-sure-Tim-is-getting-enough-calories alarm went off. So I’ve brought you your next meal.” Oliver whispered as he gestured with the tray.

“Thanks.” Tim smiled. 

Oliver carried the tray over to the stand next to his bed. “How’re you hanging in there?”

Tim shrugged, “Turns out- losing an organ? Kinda sucks.”

Oliver laughed quietly, “I’ll take your word for it. You need anything else? Any meds or anything?”

Tim shook his head, “I’ve got what I need. Thanks.”

“Okay,” Oliver stood back, rocking on his heels. He smacked his lips, eyes darting around the small room. He shrugged awkwardly. “Pretty rough week, huh?”

Tim couldn’t stop his eyes from moving to Kon before he blinked and looked back at Oliver. “I’ve had worse.”

“Ah, right.” Oliver rubbed at the back of his neck, “I’m…. not really sure what to say without putting my foot in it. So I’m just gonna- go see where they need me.”

Tim laughed at that, “Did anyone else from Star come with you?”

Oliver nodded, “Dinah’s catching up with Oracle. And Roy’s out on a patrol right now.”

“Could you ask if Dinah’s got a sec? I-” Tim took a deep breath, “I think I need to schedule a session.”

“Yeah. I can do that.” Oliver waved as he headed back out of the room.


	36. Recursive Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: Therapy, unreliable narrator in regards to depression, panic

Tim had his session with Dinah later that day. They spoke about a lot of things. Kon and Bart’s returns. The attack on the cave. The organ he was now bereft of. Dinah emphasized how recent everything was, and that it was okay if he didn’t know how he felt about any of it yet.

“I just- I feel like I can’t ever catch a break,” Tim admitted. “I don’t- I don’t believe in fate. Or like, life-time spanning luck or anything. But sometimes it just feels like…”

Tim clenched his hands into fists, “...like I’m just not supposed to have a happy life. My parents were my parents. That wasn’t anything statistically special. But- but losing Kon, losing Bart, Damian almost killing me- hell even before that  _ Jason _ almost killing me, and then Bruce-”

Tim shook his head. “I couldn’t even let myself mourn him. I’ve got this wild theory to chase and it’s like- it feels like I’m not allowed to mourn him. Not when he could still be out there. And I know that’s not how it works, grief isn’t a linear cut-and-dry flow chart.”

Tim sighed, “Now all-of-a-sudden Kon and Bart are back. It’s a fucking miracle. And the next fucking day I almost die again. And now I’m- I’m maimed. There’s a piece of me missing and I’m never getting it back. And it feels so fucking pathetic to try and begin processing that with everything else going on.”

Dinah nodded, “That’s a lot to handle. It’s important to remember that gut feeling- that impulse to belittle your own experiences and your own pain, that’s your trauma. That’s your depression. It’s not pathetic to feel overwhelmed by an injury. By a nearly fatal event.”

“I’m so fucking sad right now. And scared and frustrated and-” Tim clenched his jaw. “I feel like I’m being robbed of happiness. Bart’s alive. Kon’s alive. I should be overjoyed. I should be elated- ecstatic- on cloud nine. But I’m not. I can’t be happy because my life is one fucking disaster after another and I can’t even do that right...”

“Tim,” Dinah said calmly. “Why don’t we take a second to organize some thoughts? It might be easier to sort through all of your conflicting emotions through a bit of guided meditation. Or a worksheet technique?”

Tim felt that instinctive reaction to say no. Say he didn’t need to just write his feelings down and then everything would be better. He knew, beyond what he felt, that the exercises did help. It just always felt so childish to need a chart on a piece of paper to navigate his own mind.

Tim nodded. Dinah tore a sheet from her notebook and handed it over with a pen. 

“We’ll start with the negatives, but you have to fit them all on one side. Once you're out of room you’ll have to flip the page and start filling in the positives. You don’t  _ have _ to do one side completely before the other, you can flip the page anytime you want.”

Tim nodded and began to write.

Dinah went over the worksheet with him afterwards. She reminded him that all-or-nothing thinking was one of his more common logical fallacies. That good and bad feelings could coincide. And even though the bad tended to stick out and resonate louder, it didn’t mean the good weren’t there.

“So I just need to focus on being happier,” Tim said, his tone heavy with sarcasm.

“Oh, sure, and do plenty of yoga,” Dinah grinned back at him. “But seriously. Your depression- your brain likes to hyper-focus on the bad and catastrophize. Taking a step back and reminding yourself that just because you thought a thought, it doesn’t mean that it’s true.”

Tim nodded, “My brain lies to me.”

Dinah wiggled her hand in a sort-of motion, “It’s heavily biased.”

Tim scrunched his nose up, ”I hate skewed data.”

“That’s one way to put it-”

The door to Tim’s room slammed open. Tim startled and Dinah was out of her chair in an instant. She placed herself between Tim and the intruder.

“We are in the middle of a session-”

“I know. I’m sorry- it’s an emergency-” Barry quickly explained. “Tim- do you still have your phone?”

“What?” Tim asked, still taken aback.

“Your phone. Do you have it and have you used it in the past several days to access the secure bat-systems?”

“Uh,” Tim thought back to the last time he’d had his phone. He’d been reading a dossier of a dig site, the next one on his list to see in his search for Bruce. Back in his hotel room in Rome. “No. No, it was destroyed in an explosion. A week ago- eight days ago?”

There was a pause as Barry’s jaw tightened. 

“Fuck.” He ran out of the room in a blur. 

“Tim?” 

Dinah was approaching him, reaching for his arm. Tim figured his face must’ve betrayed the pure panic running through him.

His phone- destroyed in an explosion. An explosion set by Ra’s al Ghul. But if it wasn’t destroyed- he hadn’t confirmed. Tim hadn’t gone back to the smoking wreck of a building they had left behind. He had just assumed, Cassie and him had both just assumed. And even if it had been mostly destroyed- if enough of the internal memory and storage was salvageable-

“Tim, I need you to match my breathing.” Dinah’s voice broke through his spiraling thoughts. 

Tim stuttered a gasping breath. He tried to focus on Dinah. Tried to follow her exaggerated deep breathing. 

“- all my fault.”

“Tim-”

“I didn’t check-”

“Tim, you were concussed and then poisoned-”

“He’s got access to everything. He’s had access for days-”

“Tim, I need you to take some deeper breaths. You’re going to pass out.”

“He’s-” Tim felt the memory hit him like a sucker punch.

“ _He’s looking for Damian_.”

“Tim-”

Tim grabbed Dinah’s arm, “You need to go tell them. Go tell them Ra’s is looking for Damian. Talia said it too- Damian’s not safe anymore. I don’t know what’s going on in their power struggle, but you need to go tell them he’s after Damian.”

“Okay, Tim, I’ll go tell them. But you have to calm down. Box breathing-”

Tim nodded frantically. “In 4, hold 4, out 4, I’ll do it- just go-”

Dinah stood and raced out of the room. Tim shuddered and tried to force his breathing to calm.

In, 2, 3, 4.

Hold, 2, 3, 4.

Out, 2, 3, 4.

Cassie. He needed to tell Cassie. Or Diana. He needed to be at a computer. He needed to begin purging his old permissions and tracing the leaks and-

Tim swung his feet over the end of his bed. He stood up and grabbed his IV stand. He slowly started crossing the room to the door. His grip on the handle was white knuckled.

He wasn’t going to lose anyone else. Not this time.


	37. Fates Converging

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter coincides with the ending of "Damian on Themyscira." So some spoilers for that. It's complete now, if you want to go read it. <3

Tim limped his way to the elevator and then over to Oracle's theater room. When he first slipped in the door, no one noticed him. Babs, Barry, Dinah, and Oliver were all leaning to look at Barbara’s monitors. Tim made it half-way to the secondary desk before he was spotted.

“Tim!” Dinah snapped, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

Tim clutched his IV stand white-knuckled, “I’m trying to make it to a chair without falling. If anyone would like to help me do that-”

Barry was at his side in an instant, steadying him and guiding him to the chair.

“Thank you.” Tim told him as he turned the computer on.

“Pretty sure you’re supposed to still be in bed, kid.” Barry leaned on the desk.

“Yeah, that’s been going great,” Tim rolled his eyes.

“Tim-” Dinah was crossing the room towards him.

“I did my box breathing.” Tim told her, “Now I’m going to actually help fix things. Working on it from here is going to do more to help my anxiety than any mediation or whatever back down in the room. I’m here already, I’m going to work.”

“And what about your physical ailments?” Dinah asked, hands on her hips, “You’re still on bed rest.”

Tim flexed his hands, they shook slightly. Getting here had zapped a lot of his energy. 

“I’ll work here until my next medication dose,” Tim said as he logged in and began pulling up access logs for the whole system. “Then, if Barry and whoever else wouldn’t mind setting me up a computer in my room downstairs, I’ll happily get back into bed. Do you have the pieces to spare, Babs?”

“What?” Barbara looked up from her monitor, “Yeah, someone get Tim whatever he needs.” She returned her attention to her own work, fingers flying on her keyboard.

“This isn’t exactly restful,” Dinah pointed out.

“Yeah, well, _restful_ left the building when we learned a mass murdering maniac had gained access to all our systems,” Tim stretched his neck. “You know, other than Red Hood.”

Babs snorted a laugh.

Barry and Oliver got Tim’s room outfitted with the equipment he’d need. And, after siccing Alfred on him, Dinah successfully bullied Tim back downstairs before his next dose. He poured over the access logs, tracking and cataloguing everything his old permissions had accessed in the days since Rome. 

The information accessed was almost entirely proprietary financial documents from Wayne Enterprises. And not even their offshore accounts that were connecting to the Justice League and the Bat funds. It was mostly the current holdings, budgetary concerns, and projections based on the hit the stocks took from Bruce’s death.

There were a few other things that had been focused on. Security codes for the Bat-Cave, blueprints of the Manor and Cave, and chat logs for almost everyone on their Wayne-Tech phones. One account in particular had been actively traced. Damian’s cellphone.

That shouldn’t have been cause for alarm, Tim knew Ra’s was looking for him, and knew Damian was currently out of reach of any service.

Except there was recent activity logged for the phone, and a location stamp on it. Damian had somehow received texts a week ago. 

Tim knew the GPS coordinates weren’t an exact lock for Themyscira, the island literally moved around as far as GPS mapping went. But it would give Ra’s a narrowed scope and area to search. And with the resources at Ra’s disposal, it was only a matter of time.

Diana was already on her way to the island to check on Damian. But if Ra’s had a week’s head start, it might already be too late.

Just as Tim was logging his findings and moving on to the next access records, Damian’s phone pinged activity again. An outgoing text to Dick’s number. Two of them.

_Sent - My grandfather has summoned me. I do not know where. I will endeavor to keep my phone near me for as long as I can._

_Sent-_ _Father is alive._

Tim felt his heart drop. Ra’s had him. Ra’s already had Damian. And Damian knew about Bruce? Had Ra’s told him about Tim’s investigation? But then why message that to Dick? Did Damian have some other source?

Tim tried to get a lock on Damian’s phone, but something was obscuring the location, bouncing it around to avoid tracking. 

Dick was still out on his patrol, he didn’t even have his phone on him. Tim needed to let him know, he needed to update everyone.

Just as Tim was opening a chat to Babs, a bright light sprang into existence beneath him. Tim looked and saw the vibrant outline of a golden ankh, before it rose up towards him and enveloped him.

  
  


Tim closed his eyes against the near-blinding golden light around him. He felt weightless for a moment before the swooping feeling of falling took over. He landed hard on his side, the impact jarring his stitches.

“ _Fuck!_ ” Tim swore, curling in on himself. 

“Timothy Drake,” Two voices said in echoing unison, “Your world is in great danger.”

Tim blinked and looked around him. Floating walls, bookshelves, tables, and display cabinets hovered around him. He was laying on an ornate rug on a stone floor that continued impossibly far in every direction. Above him was a ceiling of galaxies and nebulas of every imaginable color. Hovering in front of him was a dark blue and gold clad figure, a golden helmet on their head.

“Nabu, you have the _worst_ fucking timing.” Tim hissed. His side was aching. Tim looked down at himself and saw his IV line had been severed. What was left of the tube was leaking on top of the rug. Tim swore as he hurried to take the needle out. 

“You were the one who sought to employ the assistance of Dr Fate.” Dr Fate stated, “The answers you seek carry a grave portent for the universe.”

“When don’t they?” Tim panted as he tried to sit up. His arms were shaking so bad he didn’t manage it. “Hey, would you mind? Like helping me here? I’m kind of incredibly injured.”

Dr Fate looked at him for a moment before removing his helmet. A bright golden light flared out from him, and in his place then stood Kent Nelson, holding the helmet in his hands.

“You look beat to hell, kid.” Nelson commented. He set the helmet to floating and snapped his fingers. Tim was lifted off the ground, a fainting couch popped into existence underneath him. “Sorry about Nabu. He’s not always the most courteous when inviting people over.”

“I noticed.” Tim pressing his hand over the bleeding crook of his elbow.

“Here, let me just,” Nelson made a grabbing motion in the air and suddenly there was a cane in his hand. He tapped the end of it to Tim’s arm. The bleeding stopped immediately and the pain of yanking the needle out was gone. “He doesn’t always look too closely before he ‘ports people. Anything else bothering you?”

Tim sank back against the couch’s cushions. “I had my spleen removed three-four days ago? Still a bit fucked up in that regard.”

“No kidding,” Nelson put his hand to his chin for a moment. “Ah! Let me just-” He tapped his cane on the rug and it glowed. A small dresser grew upwards out of it. Nelson opened a few drawers before saying, “A-ha!” and grabbed a small vial.

“Here, take it all in one go. It won’t regrow any missing spleen, but it’ll sure speed up your recovery.” He handed Tim the vial.

The vial was warm in his hands. Tim gave it an incredulous look.

“We need you up and at ‘em, kid,” Nelson told him, “That hunch you had about Bruce surviving? It’s a lot of bad news. The magic that’s pulling him through time and space is amassing Omega energy like nothing Nabu’s ever seen before. If we don’t stop it, the entirety of existence might be yesterday’s news.”

Tim closed his eyes for a moment. He took three deep breaths in an attempt to gather his thoughts. His side ached in time with his pulse. He had definitely pulled his stitches.

 _Fuck it,_ Tim thought. He drained the vial and tried not to gag on the ashen taste. Warmth spread down his throat and out into his whole body. His limbs felt lighter than they had in weeks. Tim blinked at Nelson and sat up with ease.

“That’s amazing.” Tim flexed and stretched his arms, his legs. He felt incredible.

“Glad to hear it, don’t ask me what it was,” Nelson took the empty vial back and winked at him. “Now, about Bruce. Tell me everything you know and we’ll go from there.” 

Nelson waved his hand and the floating bookshelves came closer, stacking against each other around them. 

Tim didn't like the idea of ditching Gotham and everything with Ra's and Damian. But if looking into Bruce's disapearance had Dr Fate worried? Then it took precedence. There needed to still _be_ a world to save it.

Tim squared his shoulders, “I need to send my family a message first, and then I’m all yours.” 

Nelson nodded and snapped his fingers. A rotary phone appeared floating next to Tim.

“Let’s get started, shall we?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dr Fate is really bad at replying to work emails.


	38. Catch Up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm changing so much but, like it says on the tin, my canon now.

Tim conveyed everything he could remember from his search. He compiled what he could remember of the artefacts and dates associated with Bruce’s stops in the time stream. The Tower of Fate had a number of historical tomes that Nelson was magically sorting through. Given Tim’s parameters for a Bruce sighting, they were able to add a few more points to their chart.

They mapped out the rate of occurrence and began to see the pattern Tim had been stumbling across. The frequency was speeding up the closer Bruce got to the present, and the rate even seemed to be consistent. 

Comparing Bruce’s trajectory with the readings of Omega energy Dr Fate had been observing, they got an even clearer data set. Both patterns were increasing toward the same instance of time. 

The space was harder to pin down. Bruce was hopping around Earth’s history, but the Omega energy was coalescing from every corner of the universe.

“I might have to go borrow a favor from those New Genesis kids,” Nelson commented, “They’ve got the tech to read this better than Dr Fate’s magic. But we have a date. It should be enough for Nabu to go off of. Anyone ever tell you you’re a genius, kid?”

“A few times,” Tim grinned at him. “Is there anything else I can do?”

Nelson shrugged, “I couldn’t tell ya. Finding out when and where to be is just the first part. Goin’ there and putting a stop to it might be a bit out of a person’s league. Especially while you’re still recovering.”

“I’m feeling much better,” Tim sighed, “Thanks again for that.”

“Don’t go running any marathons now. I sped your healing up a bit, but like I said, I didn’t grow you anything back.”

“Noted,” Tim nodded.

Nelson stood and shut all the books with a wave of his hand. “If we’re all still here at the end of this, you can add ‘helped save existence’ to your resume.”

Tim smiled, “I'd rather just have my dad back.”

Nelson quirked his lips into a smile, a touch of sadness on his face. “I'll do everything I can, kid. Now, where can I drop you?”

“Back at the clock tower would be preferable.” Tim told him, “And not as much of a drop as last time, please.”

Nelson laughed, “I’ll try. Nabu owes you that much at least.”

Nelson donned the helmet. A flash of golden light later, Dr Fate was hovering in front of him. He raised his hand and a glowing ankh appeared under Tim’s feet.

“Please,” Tim asked as the light started to envelope him, “Bring him back.”

It was hard to see past the near blinding light, but Tim was sure he saw Nabu nod.

The feeling of weightlessness took him again, before the falling sensation. It wasn’t as high a fall, Tim caught himself, landing on his feet without issue. He looked around, he was back in his room, standing next to the bed with his monitors. The room was empty, but Tim heard heavy footsteps approaching quickly from outside.

“Tim!” Kon shouted as he slammed the door open. He zipped over to Tim, pulling him into a hug.

“Hey, I’m back.” Tim squeezed Kon back. “How long was I gone?”

“Almost a week,” Kon pulled back and held him at arm’s length. He looked him over. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. It only felt like a few hours on my end,” Tim shrugged, “The Tower of Fate probably doesn’t follow all the laws of physics.”

Kon pulled him back into a hug, “We missed you here. Cassie was so pissed you’d vanished.”

“Hey, I called!” Tim huffed. “Wait, how much time passed here between me vanishing and me calling?”

“A day.” Kon told him.

“Shit.”

“C’mon,” Kon pulled him over to the bed, “You probably need to rest.”

Tim shrugged but didn’t argue. “What’s happened since I left? Has anything developed with Ra’s? How’s Gotham fairing?”

Kon paused for a moment, thinking. “A lot. A lot happened. We can get you caught up before the sting goes down this afternoon.”

“Sting?” Tim asked.

Kon nodded, “Ra’s is here, in Gotham. He’s making moves on Wayne Enterprises. He’s got a big meeting set up today at HQ with board members and stockholders. Dick, Lucius, and Cass are working on a counterattack.”

“Do we know where Damian is in all this?” Tim asked. “And Talia?”

“No, for Damian. That’s one of the things they’re aiming to fix this afternoon. Talia on the other hand….” Kon took a deep breath, “I should start from the beginning.”

Kon pointed to the chart on the wall, “First, I think you need to take your meds. If it’s only been a few hours for you, things shouldn’t be too off. Alfred was worried you’d have to start a whole new run of antibiotics.”

Tim nodded and reached for the pill box on the shelf next to his bed, “Probably need a new IV, too.”

“Oh right, were you okay? The line was just cut here.”

Tim rolled his eyes, “Nabu apparently has bad aim. Or just doesn’t care very much.”

“Dick,” Kon said under his breath. He turned the heart and oxygen monitor back on. 

“Speaking of,” Tim smirked, “We should probably tell everyone I’m back.”

“Oh, right,” Kon pulled a phone out of his back pocket. “Should I just text, or….?”

“Photo’s better evidence.” Tim held his hand out, “Gimme’.”

Sending a selfie of himself with the caption  _ ‘Surprise, Bitch’ _ to the Bats might not have been the most considerate way to tell them. The Titans’ group chat seemed much more appreciative.

By that afternoon, Tim had been moved up to Oracle’s theater. He sat on her secondary monitor and was helping run comms and cameras. They had all of Wayne Enterprises Tower set up to switch over to cycling footage at the push of a button, while routing the actual recording to the Bat systems. Kon, Starfire, and Roy were all set up on neighboring roofs, ready to move if needed. Dinah and Cassie had been placed as Lucius’ new temps, shadowing him in case things got hairy.

Everything was in place. Dick and Cass were just finishing their meeting with Lucius and the board, called earlier in the day to preempt the one Ra’s had on the books. That first stage had gone to plan, and the board was appeased for now.

A little early, but not unexpectedly, a fancy row of cars pulled up to the tower. Ra’s and several guards exited and made their way inside. All of the guard’s faces were covered with headdresses. They counted five by the camera’s feeds, but Kon radioed in to report on the two who were sneaking in via the delivery entrance. 

Ra’s was escorted to an empty conference room and provided refreshments. He settled in to wait.

“Alright,” Dick called over his comm, “Oracle, give everyone the green light. We’re live.”

Oracle switched the security cameras to cycle. Dick and Cass, still dressed in their business suits, had their lapel cameras on and recording. They both stepped out of the elevator and crossed to the conference room door. 

“Ra’s!” Dick called as he opened the double doors wide. “So good of you to make it. We have  _ so  _ much to catch up on.”


	39. Consequences

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is a long one, plot is hard. Content warning: description of a bloody wound. A person being in a drugged state.

Tim watched everything unfold from three main angles. The cameras hidden on Dick and Cass’ lapels, and the overhead security camera. He saw Ra’s raise an eyebrow at Dick and his loud entrance. He shifted his weight to lounge on his chair more. He raised a hand to his cheek, looking gracefully bored with what was occurring in front of him.

“Grayson, what a loathsome surprise.” Ra’s twisted his lips into a smile, “Are you here to sell your shares as well? I _am_ in the market.”

“I’m not interested in your money, Ra’s, and neither are your other buyers.”

Ra’s raised both eyebrows at that, “You spoke to them, did you? Convinced a change of heart? It will hardly hold out. My original offers were fair, my next will be impossible to refuse. You can’t out do me on this one, The only thing businessmen hate more than losing money is a sinking ship. Not so easy to keep things together without Bruce around, is it?”

Cass took a step forward, coming up to stand side-by-side with Dick.

“You’re one to talk.” Dick continued, his smile still firmly in place, “Things get rough when family’s involved. I hear you’re doing your own fair share of… restructuring your company.”

A muscle in Ra’s jaw twitched at that. He covered it quickly, waving his hands in a unconcerned manner.

“Children can run amok with left unsupervised.” Ra’s said easily, “Making messes of things. Caves. Cities.”

Dick raised an eyebrow at that, but didn’t comment. Cass kept her gaze bouncing between Ra’s’ guards.

“I’ll tell you what,” Ra’s grinned, “I’ll offer you twice what I was offering McDaniels for his shares. Not a penny more. You really do have such a small percentage of control. In the grand scheme of things, it’s quite useless.”

“That's a very generous offer,” Dick tilted his head, “But I’m afraid I’ll have to decline. And not for my benefit, even. I know you're going to need all that money. I hear rebuilding a criminal empire takes a lot of capital.”

Ra’s laughed at that and sat up fully. “Careful with your threats, Grayson, your resources are stretched very thin. I might think you're actually stupid enough to follow through.”

Dick let his smile fade. “You misunderstand me. I'm not going to touch you. I'm really just trying to offer some financial advice, one guy to another. I wouldn't want you to overreach. You've done enough of that already.”

Ra's smirked.

Oracle sent Dick a soft chime in his comm, signaling stage three was underway. Dick squared his shoulders.

“You see,” Dick said, “We didn't just send him there because it's hard to find and heavily guarded. There's this big thing about hospitality and honor in ancient Greek culture. So if someone say- stole a child that was a guest under their protection. Well, you just might’ve pissed off a whole island of immortal warriors.”

Ra’s narrowed his eyes, but Dick continued.

“And before you ask, I didn't tell them about a single one of the bases we know of. The number of which I know is just a drop in the bucket.  _ Talia _ on the other hand… I think the map was color coded.”

Ra’s expression turned furious. He snapped his finger and one of his guards approached him, handing him a tablet. He poked at it, the furrow of his brow deepening with every second. He shoved the tablet back at his guard and they hastily backed away.

Ra’s glared at Dick. “What an unexpected alliance. Perhaps _I_ should have launched your city into a rioting bloodbath. Would that have endeared me to you as it has her?”

Dick’s jaw tensed, “Seems more to me like you’ve underestimated her. The city’s pretty quiet today, not that I expect you to take much interest in the lives of all the little people.”

Ra’s took a moment to scan the room, his eyes landing on Dick once again. His shoulders relaxed and he leaned on the arm of his chair.

“Such a shame she has wasted so much and gotten so little for it,” Ra’s sneered, “I tried to teach her better, but she never knew how to accurately judge the worth of a person. Tell me, Grayson, with my compounds assaulted and my organization in ruin, what possible reason could I have to spare the boy’s life now? It’s almost like you were trying to sign his death warrant.”

Ra’s gave him an almost impressed look. “Did you care for him so little? I didn’t think you were that capable.”

“I’m not.” Dick took a deep breath. “There’s something Bruce taught me- never walk into an important meeting unprepared.” Dick smiled and looked at his watch, “By now you’ve got one working pit left Ra’s. We didn’t disclose its location. We can still change our minds about that. You hand Damian over, and never come looking for him again, and it stays our little secret.”

Ra’s smirked. “We both have our secrets. And masks. We’re very mutual in that regard.”

“You got me there,” Dick nodded, “But I don’t think we value them the same. Tell me where he is, Ra’s. We’ll let you walk out of here, your money still in hand. As a gesture of good faith.”

Ra’s took his time, staring at Dick and drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair. He stood gracefully, his posture entirely unbothered. He signaled to his guards and they took up positions around him. Ra’s reached out to one of them, the shortest present, and placed his hand on their shoulder. Ra’s snatched the guard’s headdress off roughly, exposing Damian’s face.

Damian blinked rapidly at the change in light, but otherwise didn’t respond. His face was a careful blank, his eyes not focusing on anyone.

“They think you are worth the Lazarus pits, my grandson.” Ra’s said as he tightened his grip and dug his fingers into Damian’s shoulder. Damian didn’t react. “They think me entirely dependent on them. They are mistaken.”

Dick widened his stance, Cass held out her hand in front of him, cautioning.

“You’re barely worth the convenience of calmly departing.” Ra’s continued, not showing a care towards Dick or Cass. “A disappointment, through and through.”

Ra’s shoved Damian, throwing him to the ground. Damian knelt there, his head bowed to the carpet. Ra’s raised his hand to strike him.

Cass was across the room before anyone could blink. She caught Ra’s’ wrist in her hand. His guards had blades drawn, all pointed at her. But she didn’t even look at them. She stood over Damian, starring Ra’s dead in the face.

“Touch him again and I will break you,” Cass said, her voice perfectly calm. She let go of his wrist. “Leave.”

Ra’s smiled as he backed away, “Always a pleasure to see Cain’s work.” He walked towards the door, passing Grayson, “I believe our business is adjourned. Give Bruce my best.”

He walked out of the conference room. Oracle tracked his progress out of the building, but Tim kept his focus on the feed from Dick’s lapel. He hurried over to Cass who was helping Damian to his feet. Damian hadn’t said anything, and his face was still that even blankness.

“Damian? Little D, say something,” Dick knelt in front of him, placing his hands on the sides of his face. “His skin is clammy,” Dick noted as he leaned in closer, “Pupils seem a little dilated. Hey, c’mon Dames, can you nod for me?”

Cass had her fingers on Damian’s wrist, tracking his pulse. Damian blinked at them, and his expression shifted slightly. His brows creased a little and his eyes seemed to focus better.

“.....Grayson?”

“Hey,” Dick beamed, “Yeah, it’s me. We got you, we got you.”

“Drugged?” Cass asked, brushing Damian’s hair back from his eyes. His gaze shifted to her, it took him a moment to focus again.

“....Cassandra.”

“Yes.” Cass nodded. “Safe now.”

Damian screwed his eyes shut. His hands began to tremble. Dick pulled him into a hug and Damian collapsed into it. 

“Guys, I hate to interrupt, but they left a small bag behind,” Roy called over comms, “It’s on the northwest corner of the room, on the table by the door.”

“Kon?” Tim asked, zooming in on the feed.

“It’s not giving off any heat, but that doesn’t mean anything,” Kon reported. “I’m coming in to cover it.”

“Get to the opposite side of the room,” Babs ordered Dick and Cass. “The floors around, above, and below you are still clear. I’m getting security to clear the next ones out.”

“Where’s Ra’s?” Dick asked.

“Already back in his car,” Babs conveyed, “Driving away now.”

“Kon, the fire escape on the fortieth floor gives you an empty path to them.” Tim relayed.

“Wait, stop,” Dick hissed. “Damian, what is this? What are you wearing?”

Tim brought Dick’s lapel feed back to the center of his screen. His hands were on Damian’s chest, pressing the fabric of his shirt and jacket over an odd shape. Damian was looking at Dick, his expression confused. Dick and Cass pulled his jacket off him and lifted his shirt. There was a small metallic device strapped to Damian’s chest, the size of a lighter and positioned directly over his heart.

“Contact Talia,” Dick ordered, “Show her my feed. What the fuck is this?”

Babs opened a channel to the phone number Talia had given them. “What are we looking at?” Babs asked her as she fed the audio into the comms.

Talia’s breath hitched slightly. “That is- a device called the heretic. It is a bomb. Used by the League in suicide missions. It can either be triggered remotely or set to a timer. It is not just attached with that strap, there is a hook on the underside set to a sensor. Any attempt to dislodge it will set it off.”

“How deep is the hook in him?” Kon asked as he resumed his approach.

“2 centimeters,” Talia relayed, “What are you planning to do?”

“I can encase it in my TTK and then try to remove it at superspeed.” Kon said as he got to the doorway of the conference room. “Unless anyone else has a better idea.”

Tim looked over at Babs. She shook her head.

“I’ve got nothing,” Roy chimed in.

Kon slowly edged into the room, sticking to the far side of the door from the bag. He floated over to Dick, Cass, and Damian. Dick was holding Damian upright. Damian’s head was lolled over, resting on Dick’s shoulder. His eyes were unfocused again.

“What kind of charge is it?” Kon asked, “What kind of power am I bracing for?”

Talia clicked her tongue, “They can be set to different yields. The largest would level a house.”

“Okay.” Kon placed his hand on the small metallic device. “I’m sure I can contain it, but if not I’m taking it out the window, so be ready for that.”

Dick nodded. Cass nodded. Tim held his breath and heard several other people do the same over comms. 

“Three, two, one-”

A blindingly bright flash of light obscured all of the camera feeds. A second later, it faded. Dick, Cass, Damian and Kon were still there. Kon was holding a blackened, warped piece of metal in his hand.

“Oh, shit, that’s a lot of blood,” Kon’s voice came over his comm. 

Damian’s chest was rapidly seeping dark red blood. The wound bubbled as Damian breathed. Dick moved him, laying him down and grabbing his jacket to apply pressure over the wound. Damian’s breathing was rapidly becoming shallow and ragged, turning into painful sounding gasps.

“What- was it hooked into his lung?!” Kon asked.

Cass grabbed Kon’s hand and shoved it over Dick’s, “Keep pressure.”

“R-right,” Kon took over for Dick. 

“Take him to-” Tim started to say before Babs hit him. 

She held up a finger as she disconnected Talia’s feed. “Okay, now say.”

Tim rubbed at his shoulder, “Take him to the Cave. Alfred’s waiting at the med bay.”

“You can fly us both-” Dick was saying.

“No,” Cass interrupted. “We came together, have to leave together. Appearances.”

“I’ve got him, Dick.” Kon told him. “Star, mind escorting?”

“I am ready when you are,” Starfire replied.

“Uh, guys, the bag?” Roy reminded them.

“Right.” Dick looked over at it, “What are the odds Ra’s left us two bombs?”

“I’m not willing to risk it,” Kon said. 

Dick placed his hands back on Damian’s chest. Kon crossed back to the bag and picked it up with super speed. He opened it and pulled out a small remote.

“That sick fuck.” Dick swore.

Kon crushed the remote in his grip and threw the remains back into the bag. He handed the bag to Cass and lifted Damian in a bridal carry. He moved him quickly out through the fire escape and took off with Starfire towards the Cave.

“Let’s get out of here,” Dick huffed as he stomped out of the room.

“Uh, Dick?” Tim chimed in, “You might want to wash the blood off before walking through W.E.”

Dick looked down at his hands. “Right.”

As Cass led Dick to the nearest bathroom, Tim switched his feed over to the reports coming in from Diana and the Amazons. Every base Talia had showed them was destroyed. Tim didn’t imagine that had been all of them. She wouldn’t cripple her own forces like that. But, for now at least, Ra’s would be busy elsewhere.


	40. The Eye of the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: medical talk, wounds and blood

In the days Tim had been gone, the Bats had worked out their alliance with Talia in order to secure Damian's safety. Through negotiations, they managed to resecure the Manor and Cave, removing the surveillance devices Talia had planted.

Most of the operations had moved back to using the Cave as HQ. And in the days since brokering the truce with Talia, her operatives had pulled out of Gotham, taking most of the driving force behind the riots with them. The team had been mopping up the last pockets of violence and the city had settled into a new, fragile calm.

Babs had offered to let Tim stay at the Clock Tower. But with Alfred, Dick, and Cass returned to the Manor, Tim would be without anyone to regularly check up on him and help his recovery. Tim knew himself well enough to know he'd slack on his meds and bed rest if left to his own devices. So he decided to move back to the Manor.

Cassie and Kon helped him with the transfer. He got set up in his room rather than the Cave's medical bay. For one thing, it was much warmer in his room. For another, the med bay was otherwise currently occupied.

Damian's punctured lung had quickly developed complications. The drugs Ra's had kept him on were a mystery. Even after a tox screen, the bat computer database couldn't identify every component. Which made anything more than topical anesthetics too risky. 

The drugs also had a nasty anticoagulant side effect.

They nearly ran through the Cave's emergency supply of blood for Damian. It didn't help that he didn't share a type with anyone else in the family. And thus had a smaller pool to draw from in the first place.

(Tim was now looking into updating their blood logistics.)

Dr Leslie had been called in. She and Alfred had worked for hours, keeping Damian's lung from collapsing while also making sure he didn't bleed out. All without being able to put Damian under.

Eventually, Damian had stabilized. And since then, Dick and Cass had been taking shifts keeping him company. For several days, Tim only saw them when they came up to eat, shower, or sleep. 

Between helping coordinate lessening Gotham patrols and logging damages and loss from Talia's assault on the Cave, Tim also kept an eye out for news from Dr Fate. Tim noted several sudden leaves of absence by JL members. Booster Gold, Superman, and all three active Green Lanterns had submitted their paperwork within hours of each other. No one had heard from them since. 

Tim hoped they were involved with Dr Fate. He didn't want to even think of some other galactic disaster that necessitated those heavy hitters. (Well, heavy hitters and Booster Gold.)

They all settled into the new fragile, calm. Tim and Damian were recovering. Dick, Cass, Steph, and Kate kept up patrols. Babs monitored the easing tensions across the city. Even Red Hood hadn't shot anyone in days.

It felt, to Tim, like being in the eye of a storm. Waiting for the other shoe to drop. A little slice of limbo that got more unsettling the longer it went.

Tim was at the bat computer, having made the journey down to the cave for his latest round of damage assessment. Tim was 50% sure that Jason had blown up the batmobile not because it had been tactically important, but because he somehow knew _Tim_ would have to painstakingly rebuild it. The whole vehicle had been years upon years of custom fabrications and upgrades. Tim wasn't sure which would be more work, remaking it from Bruce's old notes or trying to design a better one.

"It needs bigger cup holders," Steph commented as she read over his shoulder.

"Surround sound speakers," Cass put in.

"Perhaps a hydrophobic outer coating? One that would repel guano," Alfred suggested.

"Don't forget the heated seats!" Dick called over from the entrance to med bay.

"Guys," Tim groaned, "I'm still working on the frame and engine specs. I sent you all a link to the spreadsheet- put your requests in writing or don't expect me to implement them!"

Tim could only vaguely hear the sound of Damian's voice from across the Cave, and Dick's laughter in response. Tim rolled his eyes and tried to find his place again.

The lights flickered all around the Cave. There was a sharp hum before a flash of light illuminated the whole cavern. A giant glowing golden ankh appeared in the air behind Tim.

Steph and Cass stepped closer to Tim, putting themselves between him and the ankh. But it didn't move closer. Instead, a figure came walking out of it, their golden helmet shining brightly.

The intruder alert blared out as Dr Fate lowered his feet to the ground. The ankh disappeared. He removed his helmet and Kent Nelson smiled at them.

"Oh good, we all still exist." Nelson chuckled. 

Tim switched the alert off as he stood from the computer chair. He stepped past Steph and Cass.

"What happened? Where's Bruce?"

Nelson rubbed at the back of his neck, "It's a bit of a long story, and I'm on a time limit here. We stopped most of the calamity, but Bruce is still tangled up in the Omega energy. He's trapped inside his own soul right now, battling it out. Nabu can send someone in after him, so I figured this would be the place to find a surefire candidate."

"Can- can you send multiple people in?" Steph asked.

Nelson shook his head, "Sorry, this is a one-time one-shot kind of a thing."

"What happens if it doesn't work?" Tim asked.

Nelson shrugged his shoulders, "I don't know. We might still lose the galaxy. Possibly everything beyond it too."

"And if it does work?" Alfred stepped forward, "What will happen to your candidate?"

"Honestly, we're flying a little blind here," Nelson frowned at them. "I've got no idea what the inside of someone's soul is like, especially not when there's cosmic entities pitching a battle in there. I just figured one of Bruce's family would have a better shot at helping him, rather than sending Booster or Guy."

"I'll go." Five voices said over each other.

Tim, Cass, Steph, Dick, and Alfred all looked at each other.

"We can't all go," Steph sighed.

"I'm the best fighter. Better for a battle." Cass argued.

"I've got the most experience," Dick pointed out, "I've been fighting alongside Bruce the longest."

"If we're arguing experience then I have you all beat," Alfred insisted, "I've known him since he was  _ born _ ."

"It should be me." Tim said simply.

"Tim, shut up, you're still injured," Steph told him.

"It should be me." Tim repeated. "I've done the most research into Darkseid and the Omega energy. I'm the reason we even knew about this happening." 

Alfred approached Tim and grabbed his shoulder.

"You promised me. I'm not sacrificing you, any of you," Alfred looked around at all of them, "He wouldn't want you to."

"I'm not trying to trade me for him," Tim stated firmly. "This is bigger than just Bruce. The Omega energy could wipe out all of life everywhere."

"You can't throw yourself in front of this bullet, Tim." Steph said, her voice catching, "Please."

Dick added, "If you think I'm going to let you-"

"We don't have time for this," Tim cut him off. "I know the enemy, and I've done this before. I was the one that pulled Bruce out last time, when he got too close to the darkness."

Tim turned to Nelson, ignoring the protests around him. "I'm the best candidate."

"Good, 'cause we're out of time."

Nelson donned the helmet again and Dr Fate rose into the air.

Alfred physically pulled Tim back and away. Dick and Cass moved to get in front of Fate. Steph was shouting.

Dr Fate raised his hand and Tim was swallowed by golden light.


	41. Into the Breach

Tim was prepared for the drop this time, catching himself on steady, practiced feet. He opened his eyes and felt the air leave his lungs. He’d been in space before, been up to the WatchTower and on mission in the T-ship. But this was something different. The cosmos was spread out in front of him, feeling closer than possible, but also spread out so vastly it was hard to gauge the scale. It was very, very cold- but not vacuum of space cold. Tim’s eyes adjusted to the light and he noticed the tinge of green covering everything.

A hand settled on Tim’s shoulder and he turned around. Hal, John, and Guy were all there in uniform. Superman was off behind them, floating inside of the large green construction Tim could now see the shape of. Like a bubble, but with a flat floor.

“Why the hell did Fate grab a kid in his pajamas?” Guy asked aloud.

Hal rolled his eyes and knocked Guy’s shoulder, “That’s Robin.” 

“You okay, kid?” John asked him, squeezing his shoulder lightly.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Tim told him as he shivered, “Where’s Bruce?”

Tim could see Superman floating further back in the bubble, along with a golden glow that was probably Dr Fate. John gestured behind them as he conjured a transparent green jacket around Tim. 

There was a table in the center of the bubble, Superman and Dr Fate floated on either side. Booster Gold was standing off behind them, arms crossed. On top of the table was a body. Tim drank in the sight. The numbers and figures ran through his head, the parameters of his search coming to mind unbidden. The right height, the right skin color and proportions- no, skinnier. Maybe malnourished. But the frame was right, the face, the small scars on his hands and arms. Every box checked. Positive match.

Tim was reaching for him before he thought to. A large, warm hand grabbed his wrist and pulled him back.

“Don’t,” Superman said curtly, “He’s still radiating Omega energy.”

“What’s the play, Fate?” John asked. 

Dr Fate held his hands out over Bruce’s chest, glowing faintly gold. He stayed like that for a moment before speaking.

“Darkseid and Metron’s influences are still present in his soul.” Dr fate spoke with two voices, “His body will not withstand the Omega energy much longer. When he dies the power will be unleashed, destroying everything in this galaxy.”

“So send me in already,” Tim squared his shoulders.

“Wait- what?” Superman said, “What do you mean?”

“Bruce Wayne is losing the battle for his soul,” Dr Fate explained, “After being saturated with so much Omega energy for so long, I do not know how much of him is left. You must reach what remains and convince him to reject Darkseid.”

Tim nodded.

“Wait- why send Tim?” Superman asked, “Why not send one of us? Send me. This is literal anti-life energy here- I’ve got a better shot at surviving than anyone.”

“Clark,” Tim put his hand on Clark’s and pulled his wrist out of his loosened grip. “I’ve got this.”

Dr Fate held his hand out towards Tim and he closed his eyes against the bright golden light.

  
  


Tim opened his eyes to a very familiar sight. Gotham. The city lit up at night against the smog and grey clouds. Tim was up on a rooftop, in the diamond district. It was familiar, and also alien. There was no noise- or next to none. No cars, traffic, pedestrians, machines, nothing. None of the sounds of a bustling city. Just the whipping of wind through the buildings and alleys. 

And the more Tim looked at the skyline the more he saw wrong. Whole buildings missing or miss-placed. And even as he looked it changed further, shifting between one glance and the next. An idea of Gotham, built to life-size but wrong. Like a memory only half remembered.

Tim shivered against the biting hollow wind. 

_ Where should he even start to look? _

Tim thought of all the places Bruce might be drawn to. Fate said he’d be reduced, fading away. So would that only leave his strongest attachments? There was the alley behind the theater, Wayne Enterprises tower, the clock tower, Arkham asylum, the roof of the central police station, the Manor, Leslie’s clinic. Or would he just be wandering the streets? Following any one of more than a decade’s worth of patrol patterns.

Where should Tim start? There were too many choices. He had to narrow it down somehow. He had to think.  _ Think.  _ Where would be the most likely place for Batman to be? Where would Batman be? Where could you always count on Batman to be…?

Tim blinked.  _ No….it couldn’t be that easy….could it?  _

He turned around. 

There, standing on the roof of the building behind him. He was in the cowl and suit. Where Tim could see the lower half of his face, his skin looked almost gray. He had stubble. His suit was dirty, like he’d been crawling through dust and rubble. 

Tim’s breath caught in his throat. He hesitated for a second. And then he ran across the roof. He jumped the gap between the two buildings and stumbled on his landing. Tim ran to him, wrapped his arms around his chest, pressing his face against the hard kevlar and not caring.

“ _ Bruce _ ,” Tim breathed.

Bruce didn’t react to the hug. His posture didn’t change, and he didn’t say anything.

“B?” Tim took a few steps back, looking Bruce over. Bruce stared back at him, blank.  _ Reach what remains _ . Tim took a steadying breath. “Okay, um, do you- do you know where we are?”

Bruce’s head shook once. He lifted one hand and pointed at Tim.

Tim narrowed his eyes. “Me? Do- do know who I am?”

Again, Bruce shook his head.

Tim swallowed roughly.

“Do you know who you are?” Tim asked.

Bruce shook his head.

Tim let a breath out slowly. “What  _ do _ you remember?’ Tim asked.

Bruce looked past Tim, out at the city. He looked down at his own hands. Bruce shook his head.

Tim stepped forward and gently took one of Bruce’s hands in his own. The gauntlets were rough, the material was cracked and damaged. 

“Okay. We’ll figure this out. Do you,” Tim looked up at the cowl, “Do you understand the words I’m using? Are you following what I’m saying?”

Bruce nodded. His jaw tensed, his lips pursing. He opened his mouth, but no noise came out.

“That’s okay,” Tim assured him, “It’s okay if you can’t talk. Do you remember how to write? Or sign?” Tim signed his question.

Bruce nodded again, and then shook his head. He slowly copied the signs Tim had used, but didn’t sign anything of his own.

“Okay, writing. Writing will work just fine. You’ve got a notepad and pen in your belt.”

Bruce looked down at his belt, his hands hovered, but didn’t reach for any of the pockets.

“I know where, here let me,” Tim reached for the right pouch and pulled out the notebook and pen. “Um, let’s sit down over there.” Tim led Bruce to the closest ledge. They both sat and Tim handed Bruce the notepad.

“Okay. Um, to catch you up on things real quick. Your name is Bruce Wayne. You also go by Batman when you’re wearing the suit you have on right now. My name is Tim Drake. We’ve known each other and worked together for several years. Where we are right now is complicated, but the short of it is we’re inside your soul. You were involved in a battle against a god-like being. He hit you with very powerful magic. That’s what’s affecting your memories. Right now there’s people working to free you from his magic. They sent me in here to help you from this side.”

Bruce stared at him as he talked. He scribbled something down on the notepad and then showed it to Tim.

_ Darkseid? _

“Darkseid, yes. He’s the one you were fighting. It’s his magic.”

Bruce pointed up at the grey clouds above them. The sky rubbled with thunder.

“That’s- the clouds are Darkseid?” Tim asked.

Bruce nodded. He wrote more.

_ Can’t escape. Everywhere. _

Tim nodded, “That’s what we’re trying to help you with. The Omega energy is damaging you, it’s killing your body. But there’s something we can do from this end that will weaken his hold on you. You have to reject Darkseid.”

Bruce shook his head. He underlined the word  _ Everywhere _ three times.

“We’ll figure it out.” Tim told him. “We’ve done the impossible before.”

Bruce shook his head.  _ Alone. _

Tim shook his head, “You’re not alone, B. I’m here.”

_ Alone. Always alone. _

“That’s not true,” Tim reached for Bruce’s hand again. Bruce pulled back from it. “B…”

Bruce stood up and started to walk away. Tim scrambled after him.

“Bruce, please. You’re not alone. I’m here. Dr Fate and Superman and John and Hal and Guy and even Booster are here too. They’re just outside. We’re here, Bruce-”

Bruce turned sharply back to him, shoving the notepad in his face.

_ I remember. I was alone. Always alone. That’s what I remember. That’s ALL I remember. _

“That’s not true.” Tim told him. “Darkseid’s Omega energy is corrupting your memories. Maybe he’s trying to break your will, or rewrite your life to suit his plans. But believe me, B, you were never alone.”

Bruce crumpled the notepad in his grip. He dropped it on the rooftop. He spun and started walking towards the roof access door.

“B, wait. Listen to me-” Tim continued after him. “B!”

Bruce disappeared through the door and Tim ran to keep up. Bruce started down the long staircase.

“Bruce!”

Bruce sped up, sprinting down the stairs.

“Batman!!”

He didn’t break his stride.

“ _ DAD!! _ ”

Bruce stumbled. He slowed until he came to a stop. He gripped the handrail hard, the metal creaking under his hold.

Tim caught up and grabbed him from behind, wrapping his arms around Bruce’s torso.

“You’re my dad. You’ve got a family. There’s Alfred and Dick and Jason and Cass and Barbara and Lucius and Steph and Damian. You’re not alone, you’ve never been alone. Not once.”

Tim pressed his forehead against Bruce’s back, feeling the material of his cape bunch up.

“You've never been alone. Lonely, sure. But they're not the same thing.  _ You _ taught me that. I remember being alone. I remember a time when there was no one who would miss me if I was gone.” Tim could feel tears gathering in his eyes. “You’ve always had someone. Alfred- Alfred's been there your whole life. Even when he wasn't next to you, you had someone waiting for you. Thinking about you. Caring about you.”

“We’ve all missed you so much,” Tim sniffed and blinked as his tears began to fall. “And not just your family. All of your friends. Clark, Diana, Barry, the whole League. The whole world has been mourning you, thinking you were dead.”

Bruce slumped, sliding down onto the stairs. Tim followed him down, keeping a grip on his cape as he moved to his side. Bruce was turned towards him, jaw tense.

Bruce shook his head. He mouthed the word, ‘ _ Alone _ .’

“I’m right here, Dad,” Tim said, his voice cracking. “Here- here let me-”

Tim grabbed Bruce’s gauntlet and hit the quick release. He slid it off, revealing more gray-tinted skin underneath. Tim took the now-bare hand in his own. Bruce’s skin was cold to the touch, so cold it burned. Tim clenched his jaw at the pain and didn’t pull away.

“Do you feel my hand?” Tim asked him. “Do you feel me here with you?”

Bruce looked down at his hand. At Tim’s hand gripping his. Bruce squeezed his hand back. And then he pulled it up to his face, pressing the back of Tim’s hand against his cheek where it was exposed past the cowl. The skin there was just as cold.

Bruce’s other hand came up to his face, pulling at the edge of the cowl ineffectively. 

“Here, let me do it,” Tim said. He reached behind Bruce’s neck and freed the cowl from its safety locks. Tim helped him pull it off of his head. Bruce’s face blinked at him, gray and with heavy bags under his eyes. His hair stuck up at weird angles from being in the cowl. Bruce grabbed Tim’s hands and pressed them against his cheeks. Bruce closed his eyes and leaned into the touch.

“I’m here,” Tim said quietly, “I’m right here. I looked for you. I’ve been looking for you. Ever since I found out there was a chance you were alive, I’ve been looking. You weren’t alone, B. I was looking for you.”

Bruce’s hands shook even as he pressed Tim’s more firmly against his face.

“I found you, B. I’m here.”

Bruce moved his mouth, no sound coming out. But Tim could read his lips. 

_ ‘Here. Here. Here.’ _

“You’re not alone.”

Bruce opened his eyes and stared into Tim’s. 

_ ‘Not alone.’ _

The building shook around them. The stairs groaned and plaster fell from the ceiling. Tim leaned his head forward and touched his forehead to Bruce’s. The cold burned but he kept his eyes locked on Bruce’s.

“You’re not alone.”

_ ‘Not alone.’ _

The building shook harder.

“You’re not alone.”

_ ‘Not alone.’ _

The building pitched violently to the side and the two of them were flung off the staircase. The sensation of freefalling overtook him. Tim kept his gaze locked with Bruce’s. 

“You are not alone!”

“....I am not alone. I was never alone.”

They crashed into something, Bruce was ripped from him and Tim was flung away. Darkness swirled around him, blanketing him. It was cold. Tim was so cold. He couldn’t feel his hands, couldn’t feel his face. It hurt.

“Bruce?!” 

Tim called out. The building was still shaking around him, pitching him this way and that. He couldn’t see, he couldn’t see anything.

“DAD?!”

Darkness. 

Cold. 

Pain.

“...Tim?”

Warm, golden light.


	42. Warmth

Tim sat up as the golden light faded. He was in the east wing of the Manor. The study. The fireplace was lit and the room was wonderfully warm. Tim eased himself up and got closer to the heat. His hands and face still felt freezing to the point of aching. Tim sat down on the hearth and held his hands out towards the flames. He looked around the room more as the pain lessened. 

It wasn’t the study as he remembered it. There were two vases he’d never seen before. And the china cabinet was set against a different wall. The rug was also different. And the carpet near the door was a shade lighter than Tim knew it to be.

As he was looking at the door, it swung open. Bruce was there, no longer in the bat suit. He was dressed in a comfortable cardigan and slacks. His skin wasn’t gray anymore, and his stubble was gone.

“...Tim?”

“Bruce-” Tim made to get up but Bruce waved him down. Bruce closed the door behind him and hurried over to Tim’s side.

“Don’t get up, you look half frozen,” Bruce told him as he sat next to him on the hearth. Bruce looked him over, his eyes tracking Tim’s face intently. “You’re….Tim, right?”

“Yes,” Tim nodded his head, “Do you remember me?”

Bruce clenched his jaw and shook his head a little, “I wouldn’t say that I do, but you seem familiar. You told me your name.”

Tim shivered and inched closer to the fire. “Do you remember more about yourself?”

Bruce looked down at his hands, “A little. My name. It sounds like mine now.”

“That’s good,” Tim said encouragingly, “What about our surroundings? Do you recognize the room?”

Bruce looked around, “...no. But it’s not completely unfamiliar…” Bruce’s voice drifted off as he studied the furniture and walls, eyes narrowing. 

Tim scooted closer to Bruce. “It’s great to hear your voice again.”

Bruce touched his neck and swallowed roughly, “I don’t understand how all of this works. You said we’re in my soul? What does that mean? Is this just an imaginary room? Are you actually physically here?”

“I don’t know,” Tim shrugged, “It feels real enough. I don’t really understand the magic Dr Fate used to send me here, and from what he said he didn’t know what to expect either. This is kind of a unique situation.”

“You said I had to...reject Darkseid? How do I do that?”

Tim shrugged, “I don’t know. Maybe you already did. When you got your voice back. You rejected his lies about you, about being alone.”

“But then why are we still here?” Bruce asked.

Tim sighed, “I’m not a magic user. I’m kinda flying blind here.”

“Well _ I  _ certainly don’t know what’s going on.” Bruce huffed. “....but should I? Am I a magic user?”

“No. No, you don’t have any superhuman powers.” Tim told him.

“Who am I?” Bruce asked. “You called me ‘Dad’. And you mentioned other names- Alfred? Dick?”

Tim gave him a condensed version of his life. He told him about his family, his kids, his friends. He told him what he knew about Bruce’s early life, his childhood and young adult years. His day job and his night job. And about his last battle.

“Darkseid tried to invade the Earth and you, alongside the Justice League, stopped him. But you got hit with his Omega beams. They sent you through time and space to collect Omega energy. And well, here we are.”

Bruce was staring at his hands.

“That’s….a lot.” Bruce sighed. “Are you sure that was me? It sounds so- so much larger than life. I don’t feel like a superhero. Or a CEO. Or a-”  Bruce rubbed his hands over his face. “I know it’s because I don’t remember any of it. But it doesn’t feel like my name. None of that life feels familiar. Not like this room. Like you.”

Tim leaned his shoulder against Bruce’s arm. Bruce moved his arm to lay across Tim’s shoulders, holding him closer. Bruce blinked and looked at his arm, like it had moved on its own.

“It doesn’t have to feel familiar.” Tim told him, leaning into the hold. “It’s- you’ve been through a lot. I don’t think anyone else has ever had as much exposure to Omega energy as you have. So it’s not- you don’t have to immediately remember and connect with everything.”

“What if I never remember?” Bruce asked. “Being Batman took me years of training and building skills and years of experience. What if I’ve lost that? And even the CEO stuff- I don’t know what you even need to know about a business to run a business…What if I never remember Alfred or any of you kids?”

Tim felt a pang in his chest. He imagined for a second what that could be like. To get Bruce back in body, but not in mind. To have a practical stranger walking around with his dad’s face.

“It would be hard,” Tim said softly, “But it-”

“I don’t know if I could do that. Be the Bruce Wayne you remember.”

“You don’t have to be.”

Bruce shook his head and pulled away from Tim. He stood and walked a few steps away. “I’m not the man you were looking for. I’m not your dad.”

“You are.” Tim got to his feet. “Even without your memories. You’re still you. Amnesia doesn’t stop you from being you. So yeah, things would be hard. And maybe you don’t ever put the bat suit on again, maybe you don’t ever return to the company. And maybe you wouldn’t remember everyone- but you could meet them again. You could get to know us again. We love you.  _ I  _ love you.”

Tim walked over to Bruce and stood in front of him. He held out his hands, they were growing colder again being away from the fire. 

“If the life Bruce Wayne had up until now isn’t what you want then you can change it. Or- or you could-” Tim swallowed hard. “Bruce Wayne was declared dead months ago. You wouldn’t even have to be Bruce Wayne anymore.”

Bruce looked at Tim’s hands. He clenched his jaw. 

“Maybe I should just stay dead, Bruce Wayne or not.”

“No.” Tim grabbed Bruce’s hands. Bruce flinched and pulled his hands away. Tim’s hands shook.

“You’re freezing!” Bruce hissed.

“You can’t give up,” Tim insisted.

“You’re shaking, Tim-” Bruce grabbed Tim by the shoulder and pulled him back towards the fire.

“You can’t give up on living. That’s anti-life. That's what Darkseid wants. That’s-” Tim collapsed onto the hearth. Bruce knelt next to him, grabbed his arms and held them towards the fire. “B, you can’t give into that feeling. Believe me, I know. I know not wanting to keep going. I know how it feels like everything would be so much simpler if you could just stop. But you can’t. You can’t.”

“How are you still getting colder?” Bruce asked aloud. He looked at Tim’s face, “You’re turning gray. What- what’s happening?”

Tim was full body shivering. His teeth were chattering. The cold was seeping further up his arms, drawing the heat out of his whole body. 

“P-please,” Tim stuttered, “Don’t g-give up. We’ll help you. Wh-whatever you want, or don’t w-want. You’re n-not alone. L-let me help you.”

“We need to help  _ you _ right now, Tim,” Bruce cast his eyes around the room. He lunged and grabbed a blanket off of the closest chair. He wrapped it around Tim and pulled Tim onto his lap. He scooted them both closer to the fire.

Tim could barely feel the heat, even with the flame practically licking his fingers.

“You c-can’t give up.” Tim repeated. His eyelids were growing heavy.

“Hey, c’mon, Tim. Don’t- don’t close your eyes. Look at me,” Bruce shifted Tim to face him, “Tim- hey, I’ll make you a deal, okay? I won’t give up if you won’t, okay? So open your eyes.”

“P-promise?” Tim asked.

Tim blinked up at Bruce’s face. Bruce was staring at him with such plain concern on his face it was jarring. It hit Tim then that this really was a different Bruce. A Bruce that didn’t know how to hide his emotions.

“I promise.” Bruce told him, pulling Tim’s head under his chin and wrapping his arms around him. “Neither of us are going to give up.”

Tim nodded against Bruce’s chest, trying to feel the warmth of being held. But he was losing all sensation that wasn’t the biting burning cold. It was everywhere and Tim couldn’t open his eyes. Tim couldn’t feel Bruce holding him, couldn’t even feel what he was sitting on. It felt almost like falling.

Falling.

Falling.

“ROBIN!!!”

Tim gasped and his eyes flew open. Faces were in front of him- a glowing green light. Tim drew in shuddering breaths. Sensation was rapidly returning to his body, pins and needles traveling out from his chest to the tips of his fingers and toes.

“There you go, easy, easy,” John said soothingly, “Just breathe, kid. Just breathe.”

Tim closed his eyes again and tried to focus on getting his breathing under control. He felt hands helping him sit up, heard Hal and John exchanging quiet words around him. Tim opened his eyes again and took in the glowing green bubble around them.

“What ha-happened?” Tim gasped. 

“I think it worked, kid,” Hal said with a laugh. “Look.”

Hal stepped to the side and Tim could see the table from before. Bruce was on it- Bruce was sitting up on it, panting and gasping just like Tim was. As if sensing his gaze, Bruce’s head turned towards him. 

There was a second where they just stared at each other. And then Bruce was pushing himself to his feet. His legs collapsed under him. Superman was there, catching Bruce from falling. Helping Bruce cross the distance to Tim.

Bruce knelt next to Tim and pulled him into a crushing one-armed hug. His other arm was gripping Clark’s hand, keeping him close.

“I’m okay, Bruce, I’m okay.” Tim said, the words being muffled into Bruce’s chest.

Tim felt something wet on the top of his head and heard Bruce’s voice crack.

“Thank you,” Bruce said. “Thank you. All of you-”

Bruce cut himself off, his arm shaking slightly around Tim.

“Oh my god, Batman’s crying?” Hal’s voice carried. “Never mind the omega shit,  _ this  _ is the apocalypse.”

Guy’s laughter and John’s sigh surrounded them. Booster started in about how he would have to edit the historical records himself. 

Tim ignored them and just let himself be held by his dad.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :D


	43. A Long Way (Home)

Dr Fate had vanished before either Tim or Bruce had awoken. He had told the others that the danger had passed and then teleported away. So the job of getting them all back to earth fell to the Green Lanterns. Traveling in a glowing semi-transparent spaceship was a very odd experience. The whole trip back only took about 30 hours. Hal, Guy, and John all took turns maintaining their heading and the ship. Booster was acting as co-pilot, mostly just chatting the ears off of whoever was steering. Lots of gossip about future popularity polls and the current roster rankings of the Justice League. 

Clark and Tim focused on Bruce. Back in a separate room of the ship, there was a med bay of sorts. It didn’t have any complicated machines in it, unless they asked one of the Lanterns to make and maintain one. It was mostly just a room with beds and chairs and the air was warmer than it had been in the half bubble.

Bruce was a lot thinner than he had been pre-Omega beams. He’d lost a lot of weight and muscle mass, and the pallor of his skin was edging towards sickly yellow. Whatever he’d been through during his time stream travels, he hadn’t gotten enough nutrients. He was weak and couldn’t stand under his own power very well. He spent most of the journey laying down, but he avoided sleeping.

“I can’t relax my brain enough to sleep,” Bruce told them. “It feels almost like fear toxin.”

Tim stayed next to him, holding his hand, sitting with his legs pressed up against Bruce’s, leaning against his side. Tim stayed in physical contact in one way or another. It seemed to help Bruce’s hyper-vigilance a little.

Clark ran through the standard JL debriefing with Bruce. Making sure he knew when and where he was, going over a few quick tests to gauge mental acuity and recall. Bruce’s memories seemed entirely intact, at least for everything leading up to being hit by the beams. His time while lost was a lot fuzzier.

“I can remember snippets. Little moments. A hat, a person's face, a building, the weather on a certain day. But none of it is connected to anything else.” Bruce said.

“Do you remember the battle in your soul? Do you remember me being in there with you?” Tim asked him.

Bruce shook his head, “No. Maybe? I remember seeing your face and not recognizing you. That’s what sticks out.”

Half-way through their voyage the Lantern rings alerted them that they were within long-distance range of other Lanterns again. Using them as relays, they were able to send a message ahead to the WatchTower with an ETA. 

Tim managed to sleep some of the hours away, tucked in next to Bruce on the glowing green bed. Clark and Bruce’s soft voices carried around him, speaking of the time since Bruce’s disappearance and the major world events that had occurred. Even with the sleep, the 30 hours were a challenge. Booster shared what was left of his space rations with Bruce and Tim. Hal, John, and Guy all claimed that their rings sustained them just fine and Superman was fully charged with yellow sun energy. Tim felt bad about not just handing Bruce his share. He looked so weak. Tim had never seen his cheeks so sunken. But one stern look from Bruce had Tim swallowing that idea along with his protein bar. 

Finally, finally, they entered Earth’s solar system. The Javelin was waiting for them and intercepted them just inside of Pluto’s orbit. Once on board Bruce was moved to the small medical room, started on IVs, and hooked up to a multitude of monitors. 

Diana, Barry, and J’onn all fussed over him. Diana kept a steady hand on Bruce’s shoulder, occasionally brushing his hair back away from his eyes. Barry was fiddling with the machines, reading out the vitals and commenting on Bruce’s lacking health. J’onn just hovered in the corner of the tiny room, a serene smile on his face.

Tim forced himself to leave Bruce’s side. He made his way to the cockpit and borrowed the comms from a smiling Green Arrow. 

“Has anyone contacted the Cave?” Tim asked him as he fiddled with the settings.

“A message got passed along. We suited up and flew out as soon as we got the first ping. I’m sure they’ve made their way up since we left.”

Tim hailed the WatchTower.

“This is the WatchTower,” Mr Terrific’s voice responded, “Go ahead, Javelin.”

“This is Robin reporting in. Myself, Batman, Superman, Booster Gold, and all three Green Lanterns have been recovered and are now on board. Dr Fate teleported himself away from wherever we were. So that’s everyone accounted for.”

“Good to hear,” Mr Terrific said, “Because I’ve got a lot of Bats up in my command center and they’ve been very worried. What’s everyone’s condition?”

“Mostly, everyone’s fine.” Tim relayed, “Batman’s malnourished and underweight. But he doesn’t seem overtly injured.”

“And yourself?” Mr Terrific pressed.

“I’m okay.” Tim said on instinct. “Little tired. Looks like we’ll be arriving in just under three hours. Think you can handle them all for a bit longer?”

“I can handle anything,” Mr Terrific grinned, “Just don’t keep them waiting. You Bats can be scary when you want to be. WatchTower out.”

Nightwing was the first to them. The airlock doors had barely opened before he was there. Dick sprinted to Tim and grabbed him into a hug that lifted him off his feet.

Tim hugged him back, ducking his face against his shoulder.

"...how much trouble am I in?"

"Shut up." Dick breathed, "You are the smartest most capable dumbass I have ever known. Let me enjoy having you back before I have to yell at you."

Tim laughed and Dick spun him around just to mess with him.

BlackBat and Batgirl followed behind, along with a hesitant looking Damian. He was using a cane and had a simple domino covering his face. He wasn't even wearing a suit, just a hoodie with the bat symbol on its chest and jeans. Cass stayed next to him as they waited for everyone to make their way out of the airlock. 

Steph went straight to Bruce. He was in a wheelchair, IV stand attached, as Diana pushed him forward.

"Wow, B. You look like hell. Are you okay? Is he okay?"

"I'm okay," Bruce told her, his voice raspy. "I just need some rest and a lot of food."

"More like a full check up and panel of tests." Steph huffed at him. "The med bay's prepped. We'll get you checked over and then Agent A wants you sent down as soon as you're cleared for zeta travel."

Bruce just nodded, which Steph raised her eyebrows at. Batman was a notoriously bad patient. She'd been expecting a bigger resistance.

Dick walked over, with Tim thrown over his shoulder, and converged with them as Bruce came level with Cass and Damian. Cass leaned forward and kissed Bruce's temple. He took her hand and squeezed it.

"Father," Damian addressed him. "It is good to see you returned."

Bruce nodded and gave Damian a small smile. "It's good to see you, too."

"Hey, B." Dick said, tone going for casual and missing by a mile. 

Tim squirmed out of his hold and slid back onto his own feet. Steph was quick to latch on to him, locking her arms around his shoulders.

Bruce reached for Dick, his hand shaking slightly from the effort. Dick knelt down and wrapped his arms around Bruce. They stayed like that for a moment, until Diana cleared her throat.

"Med bay," She reminded them gently.

They got Bruce checked over. He was in a bad way as far as nutrition and hydration went. And he had a few new micro-fractures in some ribs and his left tibia. Some of which were partially healed. They ran a tox screen and a few other tests to make sure they weren't missing anything, before declaring him fit for Zeta-ing.

They all returned to the Cave. Cass pushed Bruce along in his chair, slipping her cowl off once they were through the portal. She planted another kiss on Bruce's temple, before wheeling him out into the Cave proper.

"Home," She announced simply.

Barbara and Alfred were there waiting for them. Babs had her phone out, pointed at Bruce as he was wheeled in.

"You seeing this?" Babs spoke to the phone. "Back from the dead and he thinks he can steal my look."

A groan and a short laugh emitted from the phone's speakers before cutting out. Babs tucked it away.

"Who was…?" Tim began to ask but Steph cut him off with a look and a sign for  _ later _ .

"Welcome home, Master Bruce," Alfred said as he reached him. "I see you are quite under the weather. Let us get you upstairs and into bed."

Bruce didn't argue, and as Alfred and Cass got Bruce into the elevator up to the Manor, everyone else hung back.

"Hey, you actually okay?" Steph asked Tim as she leaned against him.

Tim nodded. "I am. I promise."

"What about your surgical wounds? Clearly you haven't fully recovered from those." Damian spoke up.

"That's-" Tim met Damian's gaze. He looked haunty, Tim suspected Damian's natural resting face would still look haunty, but he didn't sneer at him. And he didn't seem hostile in his posture or tone.

"That's a fair point." Tim conceded. "And Dick, weren't you going to yell at me?"

Dick shrugged, "I figure Alfie will get you with his 'disappointment' lecture once he's done getting Bruce settled in."

"Why would he be disappointed?" Damian scoffed, "Drake accomplished his task. Father is returned."

Tim blinked and shared a look with Dick.

"Kid's got a point," Tim said with a grin.

"Do not call me that!" Damian's expression turned furious. "I am not a child-!"

"Aaaaand peaceful family moment is done now," Steph sighed as she grabbed Tim and pulled him towards the staircase. "C'mon, let's go get crumbs in Bruce's bed."

Tim laughed and followed her. He felt light, lighter than he had for a very, very long time. He waited for her to change out of her suit. His thoughts ballooned him, pulling his attention to the now obvious truth in front of him.

Bruce was home. He was really back. Alive. Found. Saved.

Tim opened a file from his new phone and updated it.

_ Bruce Wayne,  _ ~~_ Deceased (?) _ ~~

He marked it closed and filed it away.


	44. Storm's End

Tim and Steph made their way up to Bruce's room. Cass was already changed into her PJs and nestled into the bed next to Bruce. She was under one of his arms, tracing shapes on the back of his hand as she laid her head over his heart. Bruce looked just as tired and unhealthy as he had on the ship, helped a little by the absence of ever present green glow.

Steph headed in, sliding onto the bed on Cass’ other side. Tim scooted in on Bruce’s free side. Bruce made to lift that arm for Tim to nestle under but Tim stopped him before he yanked the IV. 

“You’re really out of it, huh?” Tim commented as he settled back against Bruce’s pillows. 

“Did Alfred add a sedative to the drip?” Bruce asked, trying to peer at the bag.

“You’re going on hour 34 without sleep. While malnourished. After hosting enough Omega energy in your body to wipe out a cosmos.” Tim pointed out. “I don’t think he needed to add a sedative.” 

“Quite right,” Alfred said as he came through the door. “Although if you insist upon remaining awake I would implore you to get started on replenishing your calorie deficiency.”

Alfred set a tray down on the bed for them. It was filled with light but nutritious snacks: nuts, dried and fresh fruits, crackers and cheeses. He handed out sports drinks to all of them. And a cup of pills to Tim.

"I do believe you're behind on a few doses now," Alfred told him with a stern look, "Limited physical activity does not normally include space travel."

Tim tried to at least look guilty as he took the medicine. He caught Bruce's calculating stare, probably trying to mentally catalogue the meds by the brief glance he'd gotten.

"It's low dose antibiotics." Tim told him before he could ask. "I'm not sick, they're just recommended for the first two years after losing your spleen."

Bruce sat up straighter. "When did you lose your spleen?"

Tim looked at Steph and Cass. "...three weeks ago now? Four? Time got weird when I was off with Dr Fate."

"Three and a half," Cass nodded. 

Bruce narrowed his eyes, "Are you missing any other major organs? Is anyone else?"

"Uhhhhh…." Steph wiggled her hand in a so-so motion, "I don't know, does the chunk that was taken out of Damian's lung count?"

"It wasn't his  _ whole _ organ," Tim said. "The wound wasn't even the size of a nickel."

Cass shrugged. "The scar on his arm is much bigger."

"Oh yeah, did ever say how he got that?" Tim asked. 

"Sword," Cass replied. 

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. 

"They have certainly kept me on my toes," Alfred commented dryly. "Your children take after you in that regard."

Bruce looked down at the IV in his arm and pursed his lips. Before he could reply, Dick and Damian joined them in the room. Dick had changed into comfy sweats and a t-shirt. Damian was sporting the same clothes he'd worn at the WatchTower, now without the domino mask.

"Oh  _ hell yeah _ , cuddle pile time." Dick hurried over to the bed, dragging Damian behind him. Dick flopped onto the bed and shoved his head onto Tim's lap. He hooked one of his ankles around Bruce's.

Damian rolled his eyes but sat down on the corner of the mattress. He set his cane to the side and accepted a drink from Alfred.

Bruce looked around at them all, taking in the subtle and obvious differences. Cass leaned her head back onto his shoulder. Bruce leaned his cheek against her forehead and let out a controlled breath.

"Who's out on patrol tonight?" Bruce asked.

Dick, Tim, and Steph all loudly groaned. Alfred tsk'ed his tongue. Cass giggled. Damian looked around, confused at the reactions.

"It hasn't even been an hour! You haven't even been home for an hour!" Dick lamented. 

"Aunt Kate is patrolling tonight," Cass informed him. "Steph and I are backup if needed. Barbara is support."

Bruce lifted an eyebrow incredulously. "Kate's doing patrols? Coordinated patrols?"

"She's on comms now and everything," Steph nodded. "We've had to shuffle a lot of routes and things around since you were gone."

Bruce nodded. "How is the current-?"

"Nope! No!" Dick sat up and leaned towards Bruce with a stern finger pointed at him. "We're not going over patrol routes or open cases or any of that right now. You just got back from being dead- or missing and presumed dead. Either way- no mission talk. At least not for tonight,  _ please. _ "

"Alright.” Bruce gave him a slightly amused look. “What should we talk about?"

Dick flashed a small smile, "How about where you've been? What was your trip through time like?"

Bruce shrugged, "I don't remember most of it. But judging from the state I'm in now, probably very hungry." 

Cass grabbed more fruit off of the snack tray and offered one to Bruce. He took it and chewed it slowly. 

"What about all of you?" Bruce asked as he swallowed roughly. "I can't imagine it's been a very…calm time in Gotham."

Damian scoffed, "I wasn't even in Gotham for the majority of it."

“Oh, yeah, complain some more about the island paradise you got to vacation on.” Steph rolled her eyes.

“What?” Bruce asked.

“Themyscira,” Cass elaborated, “For training and healing.”

“I didn’t  _ need _ healing until I got there,” Damian pulled up the sleeve of his hoodie to reveal the still pink scar that nearly wrapped around his entire elbow. “And then they refused to train me after I got injured!”

“Oh, Cassie told me last week to tell you- don’t give me that look, I’ve been busy,” Tim waved off Damian’s glare. “She said the Amazons want you to come back for a proper send off. Something about someone named Kore insisting?”

“You imbecile! A literal goddess has invited me somewhere and you neglected to tell me?! If my delayed response has offended her, I’m sending her wrath at you!” Damian grabbed his phone and shoved it at Tim. “Give me WonderGirl’s phone number. You obviously can’t be trusted as a go-between.”

“Damian,” Dick addressed him with a raised eyebrow, “It’s not like you could’ve gone at any point in the last week. I’m sure if it was a time-sensitive thing Cassie would’ve followed up with me or Cass.”

“You know what? It’s okay, I’d rather not be his point-of-contact any way.” Tim said as he tossed Damian’s phone back to him. Damian started typing out a series of texts, glaring at the screen. Tim smirked, “Besides, now Cassie has your phone number. I’m  _ sure  _ she won’t do anything nefarious with that information.”

Damian inhaled sharply, but was distracted from replying as his phone started pinging at him.

“Kore….as in Persephone?” Bruce asked.

Damian nodded, eyes still glued to his phone.

Bruce blinked and rubbed a hand over his face. “...okay. Anything else?”

“Tim, Cass, and I went on a Euro-trip,” Steph said. “Which got cut short by League of Assassin fuckery, but still. It was fun while it lasted.”

Cass nodded and Bruce looked very confused.

“It was to find clues about you in the time stream,” Tim told him.

Bruce nodded, but still looked lost.

Dick snapped his fingers, “Oh! Hey- some good news. Jason’s talking to us again. Well, Steph and Cass, but the lines of communication are open.”

Bruce’s eyes widened. “Really? How is he?”

Cass and Steph exchanged a look.

“Less fly-off-the-handle-ragey and more let-the-other-guy-throw-the-first-punch-ragey.” Steph said.

“Better,” Cass added. “Less pit.”

“He helped us out when Talia invaded the Cave.” Tim added. “He blew up the Batmobile in the process, but y’know. Small steps.”

Bruce exhaled sharply, almost a laugh. 

“B, it’s not funny! I’ve been trying to cobble together schematics for a new one and let me just say-” Tim huffed, “For someone with as anal a filing system as you have, I was heart broken to find you hadn’t already compiled your  _ years  _ of upgrades into something legible.”

Bruce did laugh at that, reaching for Tim and tousling his hair. “I’m sorry. It was a security measure, so no one would be able to have a full and current understanding of it for hijacking or disabling.”

Alfred shook his head, “You will have plenty of time to plan a new one, as you continue to rest. The both of you.”

The room devolved into everyone cutting each other off with the new features they wanted in the new Batmobile. Steph also wanted a BatGirl-mobile and the conversation spiraled into upgrades for all of their vehicles. 

Damian got heated about the doubt around his hypothetical ability to operate a motor vehicle despite being a pre-teen. He was mid-way through a rant about his capabilities when he cut off with a horrible pinched wheeze. Followed by an absolutely painful sounding round of hacking coughs.

After getting him calmed and double checking his oxygen levels, Alfred called an end to the night’s activities. No one made to leave the room. And soon they were all settled under the covers on Bruce’s massive mattress. Damian was propped up on several pillows to help with his injured lung. And Bruce was at one side near to his IV line. But everyone else was laid very haphazardly around, legs crossing and heads pillowed on shoulders or chests.

Tim was one of the last asleep. He counted the breaths around him, each of them slowly evening out. Even Bruce finally managed to pass out, surrounded and enveloped by his family

Outside the windows, a gentle breeze rustled the trees and grass on the grounds. Not a cloud in sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's still a lot to cover, but this is more or less the end of the last in-canon crisis playing out in this series. Where will I go now? Even I don't know (I know some....)


	45. Home to Roost

Tim woke the next morning with someone’s foot in his face. Alfred was working his way around the room, opening curtains and not bothering to silence his footsteps. Tim heard the grumbling and groans and yawns from his family around him.

Tim sat up, blinking against the bright morning- no, wrong angle- midday sunlight. He worked his way around Steph and Dick’s grabby hands and hopped off the bed. He could feel a headache forming behind his eyes. Multiple days in space without caffeine were catching up with him. 

Tim stretched as he tried to get feeling back in his half-asleep limbs. 

“Breakfast is ready to be served,” Alfred announced to the room. “Master Dick, Cassandra, if you would be inclined to help me bring it upstairs.”

“Breakfast in bed,” Dick yawned, “Alfie, you’re the best.”

“I try.” Alfred smiled.

Tim started toward the door. “I could help-”

“If you take one step out of that door I will ban you from caffeine for a month,” Alfred said sternly. “You will wait up here, preferably sitting or laying down.”

Tim pouted, “I’m not-”

“You’re not what, precisely?” Alfred cut him off. “Recovering from major surgery? Recovering from poisoning? Recovering from a concussion? Missing a vital organ?”

Tim pursed his lips. “I was going to say I’m not on bed rest any more.”

“Would you like to be?” Alfred asked, his tone perfectly professional. 

Tim could see Dick behind Alfred, frantically gesturing for Tim to stop.

Tim swallowed, “...I’m just gonna go lay back down.”

Alfred watched him slink back to the bed. “Quite.”

Steph snorted a laugh as Tim slid in next to her. Tim rolled his eyes as she slung an arm around his shoulders.

“Someone’s in trouble,” Steph grinned.

Tim sighed and slumped down against her, knocking her balance off. 

"I plead the fifth." Tim grumbled. 

Bruce breathed heavily through his nose, almost a laugh. Tim glared at him over Stephanie's arm.

"You have no room to talk," Tim pouted.

Bruce shrugged, "I wasn't the one trying to get out of bed."

"I'm not on bed rest anymore!" Tim whined.

"Nor are you on Pennyworth's pleasant side." Damian chimed in. "He was unbearably cross when you left with Fate. And his temper does not seem to cool rapidly."

"Oh my god, he was terrifying." Steph added. "When Fate 'ported you out of his hands- his literal hands- I thought he was going to start a fire with a look. He said some very, very choice profanity. Things that would make Jason blush."

Tim's shoulders were hunching up towards his ears. "...that bad?"

Steph nodded. "He called Zatanna, Zatara,  _ and _ Constantine. Thank god none of them got back to him before we got news from the Watchtower about you guys coming home. I think he might've tried to go after you himself."

Tim was saved having to respond to that by his phone pinging. He grabbed it and checked the notification. Bart had texted.

_ Hey dude, heard you're back in the atmosphere. Hope you're up for visitors. I don't think Kon or Cassie are gonna be stopped. _

_ I'm not either, but we all know I'm the perfect houseguest. _

"My friends are invading." Tim announced to the room. "Do you think that'll make Alfred more or less pissed off?"

"Depends on who it is-" Steph raised an eyebrow towards his phone. He showed her the message. "Oh, that'll be fine. Sounds like they're pissed at you for disappearing, too."

Tim groaned and buried his face in the comforter. 

"Who's coming over?" Bruce asked.

"Cassie, Bart, and Kon." Steph relayed as she laid herself over Tim's prone form. 

There was a beat of silence.

"Not to panic anyone," Bruce began, "But this might not be my universe-"

"Oh my god, Bruce, no! Hold on, let me explain-" Steph hurried to fill him in.

They all ate breakfast while catching Bruce up on more of the things he'd missed. Dick relented and discussed a few things about the current patrols and ongoing cases. An hour later, the doorbell rang and Tim's friends joined them.

Cassie sat herself on top of Tim's legs with a pointed look, before Damian started to bug her about Thymescira. Bart joined Steph and Cass on the large chaise lounge in the room, watching and commenting as Steph attempted to braid Cass' short hair. Kon seemed a bit awkward about just chilling in Bruce's room, but settled in next to Tim anyway.

"-as soon as you're medically cleared to travel. They understand you're injured." Cassie told Damian for the third time. "No one's gonna take that as a slight."

Damian looked displeased, but relented. He gave Tim a pointed look before addressing Alfred.

"Pennyworth, when would you estimate my recovery to be sufficient for travel? I wouldn't want to leave before I'm cleared to."

Tim glared at him. 

Damian smirked. "Unlike  _ other _ people."

Steph snorted a laugh. Dick face-palmed.

Alfred's eyebrow quirked up slightly, "I believe in two weeks time, should your recovery continue as it has."

Damian nodded. He seemed disappointed with the time frame, but couldn't say much about it without contradicting himself. 

"Wait, are you both staying here?" Cassie asked, turning to address Tim. "Both of you at the Manor?"

Tim blinked. He and Damian had _already_ both been staying at the Manor. But Damian had been down in the medbay full time. The closest Tim had gotten to him was when he'd been surveying the damage to the Cave. But Damian had left the medbay now it seemed. In the time since Tim had been taken away by Fate. With everything that had happened the day before, Tim hadn't really stopped to think about that. 

They had slept in the same room last night. In the same giant bed with everyone else. Tim had been so tired and caught up with everything. He hadn't thought about what that would mean, going forward.

Damian narrowed his eyes. His gaze moved from Cassie to Tim. "Are you going back to Titan's Tower?" 

Tim sat up straighter. "Do I need to?"

Damian seemed genuinely confused by his question. "...why would I know?"

Everyone else was taken aback by that. Several people exchanged confused looks.

"Dames," Dick spoke up, "Do you know why Tim went to recover in the Tower before?"

Damian shifted his gaze to Dick. "Because it has state-of-the-art technology and he was amongst allies while there."

Dick gave a small nod, "That's...some of the reasons."

Damian's jaw tensed and his gaze snapped back to Tim.

"You thought I would try again."

"It was a possibility." Tim acknowledged. "Though to be honest, I don't know why you went after me in the first place. So it was hard to predict what you'd do."

Damian's gaze went a little distant at that. His eyes darted around the room, noting that everyone was paying attention to him and the conversation. His hands curled into fists and his shoulders tensed.

"I was misinformed about your position, Drake. And the greater hierarchy of my Father's household. And the methods of ascension and promotion therein." Damian said, his tone was like he was pulling teeth. "You are far more capable and valued than I was led to believe."

"And if I wasn't?" Tim pressed. He saw Dick shift in his peripherals, holding out a hand in a cautioning manner. But Tim needed to know. Needed to know where Damian stood now. "If I wasn't as capable and as valued- would killing me be acceptable?"

Damian bristled, his posture straightening sharply. He glared at Tim, but his eyes weren't set in the expression. They were searching Tim's face. Nervous.

"...no. Not- not here. It wouldn't be acceptable here."

Damian held very still. His eyes locked onto Tim. 

"No. It's not." Tim confirmed. "I'm not going to move back to the Tower."

Damian swallowed roughly and broke eye contact. His hand reached up and grabbed his shirt above his heart, where his wound from the heretic was. 

Damian kept his gaze lowered. "I wish to remain in Gotham as well."

Tim nodded. He heard Dick sigh and saw Cass smiling over at the two of them.

"I think we could make that work." Bruce said softly.

"Hold on," Cassie spoke up, "I want to hear him say it. I want to hear him actually say it."

"Cassie-" Tim started to say.

"Nope. I want to hear it." Cassie crossed her arms and leaned in towards Damian. 

He glared up at her. "Hear what?"

Cassie glared right back. "That you're never going to attack Tim again. In nice, clear, plain language."

Damian blinked at her and then rattled off, "I will not attack Drake. Is that plain enough for you to understand?"

Cassie nodded. 

"An apology would be nice, too." Bart piped up from across the room. 

Damian looked like he'd swallowed a lemon. He glanced at Tim before glaring over at Bart.

"I also think you should apologize." Kon spoke up. "It's what you're supposed to do when you almost kill people. I've done it enough."

Tim inhaled sharply, "That's not quite the same-"

"I apologize."

Tim turned to look at Damian, but he was already hurrying out of the room. Dick stood, offered the room a shrug and a thumbs up, before following after him.

Cass was beaming. Stephanie looked shocked. Bruce had that subtly proud look on his face. 

"Did that just actually happen?" Tim asked no one in particular.

"That totally just happened," Steph sounded dumbstruck. "Bruce is being a decent patient, I'm standing in a room with 3 formerly dead people, and Damian just apologized. Quick- someone go buy a lotto ticket."


	46. Family (Bonds)

Tim settled in to the Manor again. Damian had been moved to a room upstairs for the rest of his recovery. His room was down the hall from Tim’s, closer to Dick and Cass’ while Tim’s was closer to Bruce and Jason’s old room. Tim had to adjust to seeing Damian frequently. They passed each other in the halls, ate some meals at the same table. Tim would come across Damian while he was set up in the library or one of the studies, usually with a sketchbook in hand. It was jarring the first couple of times, but eventually the shock of seeing him wore off.

Tim wasn’t trying to actively lower his guard. He didn’t feel compelled to, yet. He figured a bit of vigilance was justified, new leaves being turned over or not. Forcing himself to be calm almost never worked long term and just made him more stressed in general.  _ Trust takes time _ , Dinah kept reminding him, so he could take the time he needed.

Tim kept Bruce company as much as he could. Bruce was on a sporadic sleep schedule, passing out whenever he was able to and suffering insomnia the rest of the time. He was gaining back the weight he’d lost, slowly, but there was visible progress. Under Leslie and Alfred’s watch he began low impact physical therapy to build back his lost muscle mass.

Cass was the best partner for the physical therapy. She took a lot of care to select music for the sessions. And she was amazing at spotting and gently correcting Bruce’s form. Tim would sometimes just sit and watch them at it. Bruce was easily frustrated with his now limited abilities, but it was hard for him to stay upset around Cass. She was so obviously joyful. Tim would swear she was glowing from the happiness of having Bruce back.

Tim was also trying not to go stir crazy. Barbara was a godsend, supplying him with case work and the odd hacking job to keep himself busy. It helped scratch the itch.

The Manor was also playing guest to a lot of capes. Every Leaguer who knew Batman as Bruce wanted to come see him. The Titans were making the rounds as well, keeping Tim appraised of business and missions. It wasn’t unusual to come downstairs for a meal and find someone sitting in the den with Bruce, catching up. Or someone else chatting with Alfred in the kitchen as he cooked. If Bruce found the more open-door policy weird since his return, he didn’t say so.

It was weird too, for Tim to talk to Dick, Babs, and Alfred about patrol rather than get Bruce’s direction. It was impossible to keep Bruce from comms and reading reports. But he wasn’t head of operations. Tim kept having to reorient the chain of command in his head, now that Bruce was around again.

Tim was up in the library, working on an obscure case for Barbara. It had an odd factor dealing with local migratory bird records, which were mostly hard-copy. So Tim was working the paper pushing side of things to free up Bab’s hands.

Tim heard voices in the den next door. He recognized Bruce’s deep baritone and Dick’s softer cadence. Tim’s eyes were still scanning bird statistics as his focus drifted to their conversation.

Dick was speaking, “-waiting until you’re further along in your recovery to announce you’re not dead. Two months minimum by Leslie’s estimates, right?”

“Yes. That’s what we’ve settled on.” Bruce replied.

“Cool. So,” Dick took a deep breath, “I want to adopt Damian.”

There was a pause.

“You do?” Bruce asked, genuine surprise in his voice.

“Yep. Now that he and Tim can exist in the same area code and he’s back permanently, I don’t see any advantage to keeping him a secret.” Dick said, “Getting him a public persona would also go a ways to shielding him from the League. If his face becomes known in tabloids and articles then he’s less useful as a secret ninja assassin. Also I don’t think it's fair to make him wait on your health to be recognized as family.”

Tim pushed the bird records away from him. He couldn’t focus on them. He quietly got up from his chair and crept over to the door to the den. It was cracked slightly. Tim peared through it.

Bruce and Dick were sitting on the couch facing each other. The fire was lit in the hearth, casting warm light and dark shadows over the two of them.

Bruce spoke again, “You want to do that by adopting. Rather than fostering or taking him on as a ward?”

Dick sighed, “He’s the sort of person to take half or temporary measures as personal slights. Also I’ve been thinking about it since Tim brought it up months ago. He said it would be the best way to handle publicizing Damian and keep prying eyes out of our finances while executing your will. But the more I think about it, the more I want to do it just to do it. Like-”

Dick squirmed a bit in his seat, giving Bruce a hard-to-read look.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but he kind of feels like my kid?” Dick shrugged, “Like, I’ve mentored a lot of people, you know all the different teams I’ve been on and led. And I’ve had varying levels of success as an older brother. But this feels different.” 

Bruce gave him a measured look. A very small smile curling the corner of his mouth.

“It feels like what you're supposed to do, even if you can’t quite put your finger on why?”

“Yeah,” Dick sighed, “That.”

Bruce reached out his hand and rustled Dick’s hair. “I remember that feeling.”

Dick inhaled sharply, his eyes getting misty. “So you’d be okay with it? Even though it’d complicate things once we’re ready to bring you back legally?”

“As long as Damian is okay with it, yes. You’d do great as his guardian.”

Tim backed away from the door silently. He felt a pang in his chest- warm, but heavy. He didn’t get back to the bird reports that night.

Tim joined Bruce in his room the next morning. Tim took a deep breath before opening the door. Bruce was sitting at the head of his bed, finishing a breakfast tray. 

“Morning,” Bruce nodded to him.

“I want to be adopted.”

Bruce blinked at him. Tim felt his cheeks heating up with a blush.

“Right now?” Bruce asked.

“No- but,” Tim rubbed his hands over his face, “I have an idea about it. And I didn’t get to- I didn’t ask you about it before you died. Disappeared.”

“Okay,” Bruce pat the space on the bed next to him. “Tell me your idea.”

Tim crawled onto the mattress and sat next to Bruce. He offered him some of the fruit from his plate. Tim took a few and chewed slowly at them.

“My idea- I know not adopting me or having it be common knowledge that I live at the Manor was to keep Jack from trying to interfere again. And to stop him from figuring out who everyone else is behind the masks. So I figured, if we waited until I turned 18, then you could adopt me as an adult and we wouldn’t have to involve him at all. He might still use that to figure things out, but-”

“But it minimizes the risk as much as we could,” Bruce nodded. He put an arm around Tim’s shoulders and pulled him closer. “What about the public element? Would you be okay with being a Wayne with all the paparazzi and galas?”

“I had a taste of that when you were my acting guardian back while Jack was in his coma.” Tim shrugged, “I’m not intimidated by it.”

Bruce nodded. “Alright then. Well, now I know what I’m getting you for your 18th birthday.”

Tim laughed, “Aw, I don’t get a car like Dick?”

Bruce rolled his eyes, “I’ve seen your plans for the Bat-mobile. There’s nothing on the market I could buy you that would be better than what you could build.”

Tim grinned. Bruce rustled Tim’s hair.

“We’ve got a date set to make things legally recognized.” Bruce said, “But we don’t have to wait until then to….act on it.”

Tim felt his eyes getting misty. “You’re already the person I think of when I say ‘my dad’.”

Bruce pulled Tim in for a side hug. “In my mind you’ve been one of my kids for a while now.”

Tim turned into the embrace, burying his face into Bruce’s chest.

“I missed you.”

Bruce squeezed him tight. “Thank you, for finding me. Bringing me home.”

“I had to. I wasn’t going to leave you out there. I couldn’t. Not when there was a chance.”

They spent the morning together. Just enjoying having each other home and safe.


	47. Ready (or Not)

Tim stared at his phone. It had been a long time since he'd been this nervous to send a text. The text itself wasn't complicated. He knew what he wanted to say, knew who he wanted to say it to. He just didn't know if the timing was right. He didn't know if it would ever be.

Tim couldn't map out the likely outcomes, there were too many variables. It made him nervous, not having contingencies in place. 

Tim hit send. He watched the icon swirl around as his message was sent. It only took a second, but it felt like an eternity. The little check mark appeared on the screen and Tim exhaled sharply. No turning back now.

There was a nearly instant reply. Tim's heart was beating hard against his chest as he read.

Sent-  _ Would you like to go out to eat? I want to try a date and see where we stand. _

Received-  _ Yes. Hell yes. When? Where? I'm totally free for whenever. _

Tim typed out his response, feeling a little overwhelmed, and then in turn feeling ridiculous for it. He’d done this hundreds of times before. But maybe that was why he was so anxious. There were so many great memories of dates or not-officially-dates or just moments in the past where hanging out with Kon had felt like the best time of his life. What if that was gone? What if Tim couldn’t have that any more? 

He had mourned a lot since Kon’s death. The heavy sadness felt like it was stuck to his chest, and that weight wasn’t just gone. Even now, a couple months after Kon’s return. When Tim thought of Kon it was always with that weight. There was happiness there again. But the weight-

Tim wasn’t sure if that weight was ever going to go away.

Sent-  _ How about this afternoon? Meet me in the Rose Plaza in downtown Gotham around 3? _

Again, the reply was very quick.

Received-  _ That works for me. <3 _

Tim sighed and looked at the time. He had three hours before he would have to leave. It felt like too much. His mind was already reaching for all the reasons it wouldn’t work out. He shut his eyes and took a few long, steady breaths.

Tim got up and went out of his room, searching until he found Cass in the kitchen. She was helping Alfred set the table for lunch.

“Uh, hey,” Tim caught her attention, “Would you mind if I hung around you? My brain is trying to send me into a panic.”

Cass set the plates she was holding down and gave Tim a once over. She nodded.

“Nervous,” She said as she took Tim’s hand. “Focus outside of your head. Tell me about…spoons.”

“Spoons?” Tim couldn’t help the smile that came to his face.

Cass nodded, “Spoons. We have so many, and different sizes. Tell me why.”

Tim laughed a little and proceeded to tell Cass everything he knew about spoons, spoon etiquette, and the history of it. Occasionally Alfred interrupted with a correction, or to point out a difference depending on what cultural setting was being employed.

Eventually Tim reasoned it was time to actually get ready for his date. Cass came up to his room with him and helped him figure out an outfit. Cass was still finding her own sense of fashion, for the most part she relied on Alfred and Stephanie to help with the acquisition of her wardrobe. But she was eager to offer her own opinion when asked.

“Is this too casual?” Tim asked, turning around in a t-shirt and jeans.

Cas shrugged, “Where are you going on the date?”

“I was thinking a diner,” Tim told her, “Not too fancy, but not like a fast food joint.”

Cass narrowed her eyes and stared at his clothes. “Too casual.”

Tim nodded and went back to his closet. He tried on a few different outfits, each one not feeling quite right. Eventually Cass got up and started pulling things out for him, taking a lot of care to match them together.

“Why is this so hard?” Tim asked as he sat on his bed. There were articles of clothing strewn all around him. “Am I just overthinking this? What am I saying, of course I’m overthinking this, I overthink  _ everything _ . I’m such a mess, I can’t even get dressed without-”

Tim was interrupted as a shirt hit him in the face. Tim startled and pulled it off.

“Put it on.” Cass told him. “I have something that will match-”

Cass took off towards her room and Tim stared at the shirt she’s thrown at him. It was one of Kon’s old T-shirts. It was the one that Kon had torn during some fight or other, so he had asked Cassie to help him turn it into something still wearable. They had turned it into a crop top tank with braided cutouts along the back. Tim had never worn it before, it was just one of the shirts he’d kept from clearing out Kon’s room at the Tower.

Cass came back with a pair of mesh leggings and a black plaid button up. She handed them to Tim along with one of his old ripped pairs of jeans.

“I’m not going to a concert,” Tim commented as he obliged her.

“Put them on and see.” Cass grinned at him.

The leggings were a bit long on Tim, Cass was half a head taller than him. So their thick belly band sat at his waist. Tim’s old jeans were comfortable from years of wear and washing, and the holes in them showed off the mesh underneath. The crop top was loose on Tim, one of the sides kept slipping down his shoulder. He pulled the plaid on and started to button the front but Cass stopped him.

“Open is better.” She nodded, “Look.”

Tim looked himself over in the mirror. He really did look like he was going to a concert. He turned and twisted, the crop top left the large scar on his stomach exposed, but the high-waisted mesh leggings did a good job of obscuring it.

“I don’t know- it’s not really my usual style,” Tim frowned.

“Yes.” Cass nodded, “It shows that you are dressing up. Kon likes this style, right? Punk?”

Tim nodded. Kon would probably get a kick out of seeing him in this outfit.

“Is it comfortable to wear? Nothing is pinching or squishing?” Cass asked.

Tim took a moment to stretch, he squatted, bent this way and that, even did a handstand. “No, it’s fine.”

Cass leaned in and put her head on his shoulder, looking in the mirror with him, “Do you have a better one in mind?”

Tim looked back over the mess of clothes lying around his room.

“...no.”

“Then this is it.” Cass said with authority. 


	48. Misjudged

Alfred and Cass dropped Tim off at the Plaza a bit early. Alfred was taking Cass along for almost every drive he went on. The two of them were working on getting Cass up to speed for her driver’s license test. Cass had good instincts when it came to driving around on one of the bat-bikes during patrol, but she had yet to master all the actual laws of the road. Cass managed to park alongside the curb at the plaza, earning a proud nod from Alfred.

“Let us know if you need a pick up,” Alfred reminded Tim. “And do remember your curfew.”

Tim nodded. He’d managed to stick to Alfred’s recovery regimen ever since the space incident. He wasn’t eager to flaunt the rules again any time soon.

“Have fun,” Cass called after him. 

He turned and gave her a wave as she pulled the car back out into traffic. Tim watched them until they were out of view. Cass really was getting better, she didn’t hit any parked cars that time. 

Tim thought a bit about getting his own driver’s license. He hadn’t been in any rush, especially around his 16th birthday. He’d been focused on recovery. And it wasn’t like he didn’t know everything already. He’d been driving his R-cycle, the Batmobile, hell- even flying the Batplane for years. It seemed strange to think about going through driver’s ed and having to take a test about it. 

He was fairly certain he was still too young to have a motorcycle license anyway. Maybe he’d wait until his 18th to just skip to the test. Or he could always forge a license for himself. Taking the test might raise some questions about his home address and legal guardian.

Tim shook himself out of that train of thought and took a slow walk around the plaza. He was early, it was a quarter till three. He took his time, mentaly running through the restaurants nearby. He had researched which ones had options he could eat on his new missing-a-spleen diet. Kon usually wasn’t picky about food, but Tim knew he preferred restaurants with outdoor dining, where the bustle of a crowded dining room could be alleviated. 

As he finished his lap of the plaza, Tim noticed that he was being followed. He casually stole glances behind him. It wasn’t Kon. No, it was a man, taller, broad shouldered and managing to hide his face perfectly from view every time Tim tried to sneak a glance.

Tim assessed the options around him. The plaza was fairly crowded, the fountain and rose garden in the center drawing tourists and locals alike. Tim grabbed his phone in his pocket, primed the emergency beacon function, and strode towards the fountain. He found a seat on one of the benches, surrounded by people milling about on all sides, and sat down.

He pulled out his phone, acting like he was reading a text as he used the camera to scan the crowd. He didn’t see the man.

“Hey, Replacement.”

Tim took a steadying breath. He turned slowly and saw Jason taking a seat on the next bench over. He was in a t-shirt and jeans, baseball cap hiding his white streak and oversized sunglasses obscuring his face. Tim gave him a once over. He was fairly certain Jason wasn’t packing any heat- at least not traditional firearms. His pants and shirt were too tight to hide a holster, and even his boots looked like they would at most conceal knives.

“Uh, hey.” Tim replied. He kept the emergency beacon primed, but didn’t trigger it. “Funny running into you here.”

“Not really,” Jason shrugged, “Not when there’s a bat-tracer in everyone’s phones.”

Tim exhaled slowly. Sometimes he really hated how easily Jason could hack their systems.

“Is there something you needed?” Tim asked, watching Jason like a hawk. His posture didn’t seem relaxed, but it also wasn’t aggressive.

Jason stared out at the plaza, watching people walk by and pointedly not looking at Tim.

“I wanted to catch you by yourself, but you haven’t exactly been out on patrol. I-” Jason paused, staring out at nothing. He sighed and rolled his shoulders. “ _ Fuck it. _ I wanted to say good job.”

Tim blinked. He watched as Jason’s jaw clenched and unclenched. He popped his knuckles slowly, one after the other.

“Uh, thanks?” Tim replied. He was very unsure what Jason was getting at. And his posture continued to be confusing on top of that. He looked tense, but again, not aggressive. Nervous? Tim was hesitant to call it anxious. “Just- in general or did I do something in particular?”

Jason scoffed. He turned and looked at Tim, pulling his glasses down to peer over them.

“You’re kidding, right?” Jason asked incredulously. “Yeah, I hacked your transcripts and I’m real proud of that last science test score-  _ No,  _ dumbass _. _ Bruce. Fuckin’ pulling him out of the ass dimension or whatever the fuck Stephanie called it.”

“Oh.” Tim sat up straighter. 

Jason pulled his glasses off and put his face in his hand. “Jesus, kid. Do you even realize what you pulled off?”

“Yes.” Tim raised an eyebrow, “I was kind of there for it.”

Jason barked a laugh. “No shit. God damn it- you piss me off just _existing_ sometimes. And then you go and pull off something like that. Not only was it B you saved- you saved him after he’d been murdered. The fucker was disintegrated and that didn’t stop you.”

Tim felt a blush heating up his cheeks and he prayed it wasn’t noticeable. “I mean- it probably would’ve been saner not to go looking to save a dead guy.”

“No one in Gotham is sane, and I  _ know  _ you’re not.” Jason rolled his eyes and held up his hand, fingers curled to the shape of a gun. He tapped two fingers to a spot on his chest, the same spot Tim had let himself get shot all those months ago. 

Jason sighed. “Forget replacing me, you’re officially better at this than B and Dick-wad. Kinda makes me wish you’d been in the cape back when I got axed.”

Tim felt his heart skip a beat at that. He wanted to say something to Bruce and Dick’s defenses. Point out that Tim  _ had  _ gone over Jason’s death once he’d had access to the files, and he hadn’t thought to look for him any more than anyone else. But that didn’t seem like an argument he’d want to get into with Jason, especially after he’d just paid him his first compliment ever.

So Tim let that train of thought pass and opted for a different truth. 

“You were the reason I took up the cape. I mean- I don’t know if you caught the  _ subtle _ homage to Robin in my suit’s design...”

Jason laughed again. And it was such a strange thing to hear, Jason laughing while not having it strike fear into his heart. Something about sitting in the middle of a crowd out in daylight, with kids and teens and everyone else just existing around them made the whole thing seem very surreal.

“Fuck, kid,” Jason slid his sunglasses back on and stood. He shook his head. “I was really fucking wrong about you.”

Jason strode away, not looking back. Tim watched him disappear into the crowds, there one moment and gone the next. 

He closed the program on his phone. 


	49. Don't Mind

Tim sent Steph a text, letting her know he’d run into Jason and that it had actually gone okay. She asked for details, and he promised a full briefing later.

The clock over the plaza struck three. The chimes echoed over the pavement and were swallowed up in the general noise of the crowd. Tim stood, his anxious energy returning ten-fold. He started on another lap around the plaza, scanning the faces around him. 

There, coming from around the corner of a building at the plaza’s edge. Kon spotted him quickly, giving a little wave and jogging over to him. Kon was in a pair of nice jeans, with a flannel tucked in, but unbuttoned to show off a tight black tank top underneath. He had his Kent-disguise glasses on, thick frames giving his face a younger appearance. His earrings caught the sunlight.

“Hey, oh, wow dude, you look awesome.” Kon’s eyes got wide as he took in Tim’s outfit. “Is that one of my old shirts?”

Tim nodded, “I have a few, still. Do you want any of them back?”

“You keep ‘em.” Kon shook his head, “You look good in them.”

“ _ You _ think I look good in them,” Tim teased.

“Good doesn’t quite cover it,” Kon took a step forward, now officially in Tim’s space. He blinked and raised his hand up, holding it to the top of Tim’s hair. “You got taller!”

Tim laughed, “What did you think I was going to do- shrink?”

Kon laughed too, “No. I just- I like it. I won’t have to bend down so far to do this now.”

Kon leaned in and ghosted a kiss onto Tim’s cheek. Tim could feel a blush erupting over his face. Kon grinned and planted another one before straightening up again.

“See, much easier.”

Tim couldn’t fight the smile his lips quirked into. He noticed a slight blush dusting Kon’s cheekbones.

“So, where are we eating?” Kon asked, not bothering to step back at all. He was practically flush against Tim. “What’s good in Gotham these days?”

Tim had the list of restaurants ready in his head. He knew he did. But in that moment, looking up at Kon, he couldn't get the words out.

Kon was here. It wasn't new, he'd been back for more than two months. Tim had seen him several times in those months, at the Clock tower, at the Manor, down in the Cave. 

But it was hitting him in a very different way. Kon was here. Kon's hair was shining in the afternoon sunlight. He was close- so close. And there were lots of normal people just walking around them. All of them unaware of the miracle standing in front of Tim.

"Hey, you okay?" Kon's expression shifted, concern taking over. "Were the kisses too much? I'm sorry. You said this was a date, so I just assumed-"

Kon made to take a step back and Tim's arms were on him in an instant, holding him in place. Kon blinked at him, concern becoming confusion.

"I'm okay," Tim said hurriedly. "I mean, I think I'm having a crisis in my head about you." Tim shook his head. "This doesn't seem real sometimes. Having you back."

"I'm here," Kon assured him, his hands coming up to hold Tim's. "I'm really here."

Tim nodded. "I know. I know you are. It's not- I'm not doubting this. It's just hard to reconcile. I got used to knowing that thinking about you would hurt. And it still does, but now it also feels good again."

Kon gave Tim a measured look. "Is this too much? I don't want to be hurting you."

"You're not hurting me. It's just grief." Tim corrected him. "It's my grief and I'll figure it out. It's just- I'll  _ be _ figuring it out. Is that, is this going to be okay? Trying to date a guy who gets thrown just because the sunlight hit you in a certain way. My moods aren't as stable as they used to be.  _ I'm  _ not as stable."

Kon squeezed his hands gently. "...I don't mind. I don't- I don't want you to hide it or try to downplay it. Be moody. Be unstable. I won't mind it as long as you don't mind showing me."

Tim blinked up at Kon.

Kon tugged at Tim's hands and led the two of them out of the main plaza. They sat on one of the benches out past the thoroughfare. Where the crowds were thinner and they had more space to themselves.

"I know this probably wasn't what you had in mind when you asked me out-" Kon started. "But I feel like I need to say it before we go and share a plate of nachos and try to act like there's not this big heavy thing between us."

"I miss you," Kon breathed. "I miss hearing about what happened on your patrols. Or just your day. Hearing about the latest thing you're building or the cold case that's got you stumped. We've been texting and I tell you about my day and what I'm stuck on. I complain about Smallville and Clark and everything else. But it's like there's this whole big part of you that you're trying to spare me."

Tim stared down at his hand in Kon's. He rubbed the pad of his thumb over Kon's knuckles. 

"It's not always an easy thing to talk about." Tim whispered. "And I don't want to make you upset. I don't want you feeling guilty about how fucked up I am now."

"Okay. I won't." 

Tim stared at Kon.

"You can't just say you won't."

"Well, I did." Kon pouted at him. "You don't want me feeling guilty- I won't feel guilty. I am telling you right now that I take no responsibility for your depression."

"That's-" Tim just stared at him.

"What?" Kon asked. "I mean it."

"I know you do," Tim rubbed his other hand over his face. "But it doesn't work like that. You don't get to just decide what feelings you're going to have."

"Uh-huh," Kon nodded, "That's what I'm saying. I don't control your emotions, so I'm not going to feel guilty about your grief."

"But you can't promise that," Tim insisted. "You can't promise that you won't ever feel guilty."

Kon shrugged, "Probably not. Kind of like how you can't stop my guilt by keeping me in the dark. Or shutting me out."

Tim blinked at him.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

" _ Do _ you feel guilty?" Tim asked.

Kon sighed. "I mean. It's not hard to see the toll all of this took on you." Kon reached over, gently pushing some of Tim's hair away from his face. "And I know it wasn't all me, but I can assume. All I've been doing is assuming. I'd rather  _ know _ . Instead of having to imagine."

Tim swallowed hard. "...it'll make you feel worse."

Kon's grip tightened around his hand.

"I don't mind." Kon said simply. "If it means I get to see you again, see  _ all  _ of you again, I don't mind feeling bad. You're worth it to me."

Tim looked over at him. Kon gave him a sad smile.

"Was I worth it?" Kon asked, a wetness in his voice. "Was I worth all the pain afterwards?"

Tim shut his eyes, and took a shaky breath. "What does that- how am I even supposed to answer that?"

"Did you...regret it? Knowing me? Caring about me?" Kon asked. "If you could have, I don't know, traded away the grief along with what we were, would you have?"

"No." Tim sniffed and wiped at his eyes. "I never regretted- Not you. Or Bart. Or Bruce. Never. That wasn't-"

Tim took a deep breath. "Dinah put it really well in one of our sessions. She said something like- grief is love that you can no longer give. It hurts so much because that's how much love you still carry for them. It's a weight and it's heavy. It hurts less as time goes on, not because you love them less, but because you'll get used to carrying it."

"It hurt so much because I cared so much," Tim swallowed roughly, "But I wouldn't have traded it for less."

Kon tugged on Tim's hand gently. Tim went along with it and he was pulled into a hug. Tim pressed his face into Kon's chest.

"I don't want to trade for less either." Kon told him. "Less grief or guilt or whatever isn't what I'm after. I want _you_. I want to know you again."

Tim sucked in a breath. He pushed on Kon's chest, just enough to sit back and look at him. Kon gave him a small smile, his hand coming up to wipe at a tear sliding down Tim's cheek.

"I want you, too."

Tim leaned in and kissed Kon softly. It was easily one of the worst, snottiest kisses they'd ever shared. It made Tim's chest feel tight.

It felt real.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> >3< >E<


	50. Like a Dog with a Bone

Tim thought he’d have to wait until he was a Wayne himself before he would develop a personal hatred for the Gotham paparazzi. Turns out that, no, he could hate them without being the object of their schemes. 

Dick had finalized Damian’s adoption, the two of them going to the courthouse was the last piece of paperwork in the very long paper trail Babs and Tim had put together for Damian’s new identity. There was enough there to convince anyone who looked that he was a normal kid, but not enough to give them anything to go on as far as finding out about his mother or extended family. 

Dick and Damian went to the courthouse in the afternoon, and by the evening news, the story had leaked. The Wayne Fortune’s heir, one of Gotham’s most eligible Bachelors, Dick Grayson, had a son. And by the next day, the press had dug up enough of their cover story to find out that Damian was Bruce’s biological kid. The Manor was being called constantly, reporters driving for an interview with the newest Wayne. Never mind that his name was now Wayne-Grayson.

Photographers were camped outside of the Manor grounds, eager to get a peek inside. Tim and Bruce had to keep especially vigilant to not be seen through any windows. 

Damian was not dealing with the attention very well.

He hadn’t gone out much to begin with. As his recovery had continued to improve, he would sometimes go out with Dick, or Cass or even Steph. They would go to get him new art supplies, or visit the zoo, or even go to an art gallery. But for the most part, Damian stayed at the Manor. He busied himself with training- what physical therapy and light activity Alfred would allow.

But now he couldn’t even step out onto the front half of the grounds without having people shout through the gates at him, cameras flashing. 

Lucius helped them organize a proper interview through Wayne Enterprises’ PR department. Dick worked out a script and the interview itself went pretty smoothly. Some of the press’ attention died down afterwards, but not all of it. Some less scrupulous paps kept trying to get candid shots, even stooped to heckling Damian while he was in town with Dick.

A couple broken cameras did little to deter them. In fact, it seemed to just attract more attention. Bruce Wayne’s mystery love-child had a violent streak? It made the front page of the tabloids-  _ Youngest Wayne Out of Control!! What kind of Parent is Dick Grayson? Wayne Legacy Squandered- How Far Gotham’s Golden Family has Fallen. _

Dick let the PR department handle things for the most part. Anything they couldn’t sue for libel, he ignored. 

Cass had a bit of attention over it too. Some reporters were aiming for a story about split inheritance drama. But Cass was Cass, and the reporters always had a hard time trying to tail her. She did work with Lucius and put out another interview. She gave a very touching account of how much she loved her brothers and was happy to have more family around. She gained a bit of a following for the piece, some press going as far as to dub her the city’s new favorite Wayne.

Eventually the buzz died down. The press moved on to a different set of rich people doing things that would sell papers. And Tim was able to move around more freely again, even getting dragged along on an outing into the city with Dick.

“Remind me why we’re here again?” Tim asked.

Dick grinned at him as he dragged Tim further down the isle of cages. The air smelled like dog piss and the cacophony of barking and yips was headache inducing.

“I needed a second opinion. And you like showing off your esoteric knowledge.” Dick shrugged.

“I’ve never  _ had  _ a pet, Dick,” Tim rolled his eyes, “I don’t think anyone in our family has. You’ve got the most experience with animals, and yes, I am talking about Zitka the elephant.”

Dick laughed and waved one of the shelter workers over. They talked for a while about breeds and sizes and exercise requirements and food. Eventually, Dick and Tim were escorted out to one of the yards and they got to play with a few of the puppies. 

“What even makes you think Damian would want a dog?” Tim asked.

Dick threw a ball and watched as the pack of puppies hurried after it.

“When he got back from his proper send-off from Themyscira, Damian mentioned the herding dogs he’d worked with on the island. Apparently he did some shepherding while there?” Dick shrugged, “He seemed really happy when he was talking about it. It got me thinking. Besides, pets are good for emotional support, right?”

Tim shrugged, “I guess so, but these aren’t trained support animals.”

Dick nodded, “I don’t think he’d take me getting him an actual therapy animal very well. So, a pet.”

Tim watched the puppies playing with each other, falling over and flopping around.

“Maybe a puppy isn’t the best idea.” Tim suggested, “They take a lot of care and they’re kind of…..fragile.”

“So, what, an older dog?” Dick asked.

Tim tilted his head to the side, “Maybe just a bigger dog. Something sturdier?”

Dick picked up the puppy that was sniffing at his shoes. “How big? I’m moving back to an apartment soon.”

Right. Once they got Bruce back to legally-alive status, Dick was going to move back to Bludhaven. And Damian would go with- at least partially. Tim wasn’t entirely sure, the logistics were still being figured out.

Tim shrugged, “If you take them out on walks often enough then it shouldn’t be an issue, right?”

“I guess,” Dick set the squirming puppy back down, “And that would encourage Damian to go out more, too.”

Tim looked at the puppies around them. They each had something unique about them, whether it was their size or their level of excitability or just general demeanor. 

“Why don’t you come back with him?” Tim asked. “I think the best way to know what dog he’d want would be to let him pick.”

Dick pouted, “I wanted to surprise him. We didn’t really get to celebrate the adoption with all the press around.”

Tim sighed, “So don’t tell him where you're going. It’ll still be a surprise.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“And if he doesn’t want a dog, they have a bunch of other pets here too,” Tim pointed out.

“I want him to get something that will be okay with cuddles,” Dick lamented, “He needs more cuddles.”

“Dick, he lives with you. He’s getting cuddles.” Tim smirked.

Dick sighed, a serious expression on his face, “I do what I can.”

Tim, Steph, and Cass made bets on what kind of dog Damian would pick. Steph thought he’d go pit bull- or Rottweiler-like. Cass put in for a working dog, like a collie or a shepherd. Tim was leaning more towards a lab or a husky, hoping Dick’s plan for a companion animal would pull through. 

None of them were prepared for when Dick’s sedan pulled into the Manor drive, and a  _ horse _ stepped out of the back seat. Okay, it wasn’t actually a horse. But almost. The dog’s head was almost as tall as Damian’s! 

“Oh, Dick,” Tim sighed. 

“Hey guys, come say hello!” Dick called them over. 

Damian was holding the dog’s leash, standing proudly next to him, petting his neck. The dog seemed very friendly. He was a pure black Great Dane. He turned towards them as they approached, but didn’t bark or pull at the leash.

“Is he trained?” Tim asked.

“He has had some instruction,” Damian told them, “But I will of course improve upon that. He is highly intelligent.”

“What’s his name?” Steph asked as she let the dog sniff the back of her hand.

“Titus.” Damian said, pride very obvious in his tone.

“He’s still a puppy isn’t he?” Tim asked.

“Yep, about 7 months old,” Dick nodded. “The shelter said they expect him to put on another seventy or so pounds and a couple more inches.”

“So he’ll need his own room in your apartment.” Tim shook his head.

“Hardly,” Damian scoffed, “He will share my quarters.”

“Kind,” Cass said as she pet Titus’ head. 

“He’s a big sweetheart,” Dick agreed.

Damian pursed his lips, but didn’t say anything. Titus sat down and leaned against Damian, almost knocking him over.

“ _ Big _ being the operative word,” Tim smirked.

Somewhere out past the Manor's fence line, a camera's shutter snapped. 


	51. It Helps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> References to a previous work in this series "Fathers and Other Four Letter Words"
> 
> Content warning - panic attacks

Tim was slowly building back his workout routine. He’d made a lot of progress since losing his spleen. He was adjusting well to his new diet and medication regimen. He had moved beyond just PT and was back to running laps of the Cave’s ropes courses. If felt good, to feel the strength returning to his limbs, to get used to the pull of his new scar. Flying around the Cave wasn’t as exhilarating as flying across rooftops, but it felt good. Tim was almost old hat at recovery. He watched as he cleared the benchmarks, feeling more and more confident with every hurdle cleared. 

He would be back out on patrols soon. He could almost taste it.

Damian was a frequent presence in the Cave. He was working with Cass and Dick to familiarize himself with the bat-specific tech. He picked up the grappling and bat-a-rang throwing very quickly. He struggled with some of the gadgets that required more restraint, like the bolas and the nets. But he kept at it, determined to master the arsenal.

The Cave was where the two of them spent most of their shared time. Tim had offered to spar a few times, but only when there was someone else to watch. It helped. Every time he saw Damian pull a strike or respect a tap out, it helped. Damian seemed eager to test himself against Tim, to prove himself superior. But also eager to prove he knew what the rules and restrictions were. He was making a lot of strides.

Tim was working through his cool down routine on the matts. Damian was just coming down, nose in his phone as he headed towards the lockers to gear up for a workout.

Tim noticed Damian hesitate, eyes narrowing and fingers tapping on his phone screen. 

“Everything okay?” Tim asked.

“ _ -tt-, _ ” Damian scoffed, “There is another article about us. More drivel about my adoption.”

“Ugh,” Tim sighed, “I thought you were old news already.”

“Evidently not,” Damian scowled at his phone. “Although the piece does not seem to be laying any accusations or filled with easily provable lies.”

“Can I see?” Tim stepped off the mats and walked over to Damian.

Damian huffed a breath but handed Tim his phone. Tim read the paragraph it was open to.

_ Keeping up with the Waynes- A candid shot of the Wayne family shows a rarely seen domestic side. Heir and head of household Dick Grayson and his recently adopted son Damian Wayne-Grayson spend a sweet moment sharing a new pet with friends and family. Cassandra Wayne, Gotham’s own sweetheart, was there for the occasion, here seen playing with the giant animal. Seriously- who knew dogs got that big? Also pictured were a couple of unidentified friends. It seems the Waynes are managing to keep in good spirits, despite the recent tragedy.  _

Tim’s throat got tight. ‘ _ Unidentified friends _ ’? He scrolled up the webpage, closing ads as he scanned for the posted image. There were several photos taken of the day Damian had brought Titus home. There were several zoomed in on Dick and Damian, a few of Cass and Titus, and a few wide shots of the whole front yard. Alfred was in the background of a few and Steph was there and so was Tim. But they were mostly out of focus and turned away from the photographer. Tim scrolled through the small album. There- second to last- was a shot that showed him perfectly in focus. He was even facing the camera, his whole face perfectly on display.

Tim’s chest felt tight. His grip on Damian’s phone was tense. 

“Drake?” 

Tim blinked, pulling his gaze away from the phone screen. Damian was looking at him, confusion clear on his face.

“What is it? Is the article bad enough to set the lawyers on it?” Damian asked.

“No,” Tim swallowed hard. “No, that’s not-”

There was no reason to panic. He wasn’t identified in the image. He wasn’t mentioned in the article. There was no reason to panic. It was one of thousands of articles on a site that refreshed its homepage every half hour. There was no way his- no way Jack had seen it. It wasn’t logical. There was no reason to panic.

Tim’s breaths were coming in rapid and shallow. His grip on Damian’s phone was white knuckled. His mouth felt dry. Damian was saying something, but Tim couldn’t focus enough to parse it.

_ Oh _ , Tim thought with an almost out-of-body sensation,  _ I’m panicking _ .

Tim wrapped his arms around himself tightly. He tried to even out his breathing. He knew how- box breathing, in for four, hold for four, out for four. But he couldn’t focus- he couldn’t focus.

Jack would see it. Jack would know where he was. Jack would come and find him and yell at him again, threaten him again. Jack would put together the clues and figure out everyone else’s identities. He would expose them- he would-

Someone was touching Tim’s arms, grabbing him. Tim reacted on instinct, lashing out and shoving himself backwards, away, gaining distance. His chest hurt from how heavily he was panting. He fell onto his butt, uncoordinated. His limbs felt sluggish, he was having trouble tracking time. Everything felt like it was too fast _and_ too slow. It was hard to keep track of anything.

“-im, you’re safe. I’m not going to touch you again. I’m just going to sit here. You’re safe, Tim. We’re in the Cave. I’m here with you. You’re safe-”

Tim blinked rapidly, trying to get his eyes to focus. He looked up from the section of floor he’d been staring at. Dick was there. Sitting a good six feet away from him, legs crossed and hands splayed on top of his knees, palms up. He had a gentle smile on his face as he continued his stream of reassurances.

“Hi, Tim. Are you back with me?” Dick asked.

Tim nodded. He sat himself up further, pulling his knees up to his chest. He hugged his knees, trying to force his breathing to even out.

“That’s good. You’re safe, Tim. We’re in the Cave. Do you think we could match our breathing?”

Tim clenched his jaw and nodded again. Dick guided him through it, counting out loud. It helped, having Dick’s voice to focus on.

“....s-sorry,” Tim ground out.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Dick told him simply. “Are you feeling a bit calmer?”

Tim nodded. He could feel the adrenaline spike fading. His stomach ached and his limbs felt like lead.

“Can I come closer? You can say no.”

Tim nodded, “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

Dick crawled over to him on his hands and knees, sitting himself next to Tim. Tim appreciated the effort not to loom.

“Would a hug help?” Dick asked.

Tim felt his cheeks burn with a blush but he nodded. Dick wrapped his arms around him. Tim exhaled into it. Dick’s arms felt warm. Tim hadn’t noticed how cold he was before- right, he had been doing cool downs. He was still all sweaty from his workout. 

“Sorry,” Tim said again.

Dick squeezed him tight, “It’s fine. Do you want to talk or just sit here for a bit?”

“‘m cold,” Tim mumbled.

“You are. Want to go take a hot shower? Get into some clean clothes?” Dick asked.

Tim nodded. Dick helped him to his feet. He kept a hand on his arm as he guided Tim over to the lockers and the showers.

“I can do this alone,” Tim told him as he grabbed his towel.

“I’ll wait for you here,” Dick nodded as he took a seat on the locker room bench.

The hot water helped. Tim could feel himself becoming more aware, could feel his tense muscles loosening. He showered and changed and met Dick back at the bench.

Dick smiled up at him and rose gracefully to his feet. “Want to get out of the cold damp cave?”

Tim nodded. “Um- was it you who grabbed me?”

“Yeah,” Dick frowned, “Sorry about that. I thought it might help- you were hugging yourself really tight.”

“Did I hit you?” Tim asked. It was hard to remember. Tim sighed internally, panic attacks weren’t always reliable for recall.

“Just a shove. Enough to get me to let go.” Dick told him easily. “I don’t think it’ll even bruise. It was my fault anyway, I made the wrong call.”

Tim shook his head. “Touch helps sometimes. Uh- my hands. Dinah held my hands sometimes to help bring me out of a panic during sessions. Maybe just avoid my arms- and my shoulders.”

“Okay,” Dick said. He held his hand out and Tim took it. Dick squeezed it gently.

They rode the elevator up to the Manor proper. Tim was hit with a wave of tiredness as they stepped out. He felt like he could just lay down on the ground where he was and pass out. 

“Um, I think I’m just gonna go to my room,” Tim said around a yawn.

“Okay,” Dick turned them in the right direction.

Tim frowned as he was led upstairs. He was so tired, but he couldn’t just go to sleep. He had to-

“The photo,” Tim said.

“What?” Dick asked.

“The photo, in the article.” Tim said, feeling the panic start to creep back in, his throat getting tight again. “There was a photo of all of us and you could see my face. We need to- need to-”

“We can get Babs on that,” Dick told him, squeezing his hand. “Damian knows which article, right?”

Tim nodded. Wait- where _was_ Damian? Tim had lost track of him in his panic.

Dick leaned over the staircase railing and yelled out into the house.

“DAMES!”

Tim jumped at the volume. Damian came running in from the east hall.

“What?” Damian asked.

“Can you send Babs the article you were telling me about? Tell her there’s a photo we need nixed.” Dick asked him.

Damian nodded and looked around Dick at Tim.

“I will need my phone returned.”

Tim blinked. Right, he had had Damian’s phone. Where had he put-?

“It’s on the floor in the Cave,” Dick told Damian, “Sorry.”

Damian scoffed and took off towards the Cave entrance.

Dick led Tim to his room and joined him in sprawling out on his bed, still holding his hand. Tim stared up at the ceiling, feeling his eyelids getting heavy.

“...did Damian go and get you for me?” Tim asked.

“Yeah,” Dick squeezed his hand again, “I think he was a little freaked out. He kept saying that he hadn’t done anything to you, hadn’t touched you.”

“He didn’t,” Tim told him. “It was the picture. He didn’t do anything.”

“I sort of figured,” Dick shrugged, “But it's nice to know for sure.”

Tim sighed, “I shouldn’t have panicked. It wasn’t even- I wasn’t even identified in the photo. There’s no way that Jack-”

Tim swallowed roughly. His eyes felt wet.

“You worry about him, yeah? Worry about him doing something still,” Dick asked him softly. 

Tim inhaled shakily, “He threatened to, the last time we spoke. He threatened to reveal me as Robin. He didn’t- he’s not even in Gotham anymore. But- but-”

“But you still worry about it?” Dick asked.

Tim nodded. “He could ruin all of this. Even if he didn’t put together who everyone else is in the capes- he could ruin my life. He could come back and expose me and kick up an investigation into where I’ve been this whole time. I’ve been doing school remotely and I was planning to test out early this year- but still. My fudged home address would only raise more questions. It could drag everyone into a whole mess and it's the last thing we need right now. Things are finally dying down around Damian’s adoption. And with the plan to bring Bruce back-”

Tim wiped at his eyes.

“I don’t want to be a liability.”

“You’re not.” Dick said forcefully. “Tim, you’re not. We’ve all got secret identities that put each other at risk. That’s just a part of all of this.”

“I know,” Tim pressed his hand against his eyes. “I know. I just feel so stupid for letting him find out. It was- fuck it was almost two years ago. And I still feel so stupid-”

“You’re not stupid,” Dick squeezed his hand. “Tim, you’re the smartest person I know. It’s not on you- it’s not your fault. What Jack does or doesn’t do isn’t on you. I know I can’t just make your worry disappear. And I can’t promise that Jack won't ever be a problem again. But I can promise that whatever happens, we’ll handle it together.”

Tim sniffed and Dick pulled him into a hug. Babs sent them texts later, letting them know she’d successfully scrubbed the photo from the article. It helped. Laying in Dick’s arms, knowing his family would protect him, was protecting him. 

It helped.


	52. A Thing with Feathers

Tim’s first night back on patrol was a calm one. There were no activities from the rogues, no major disaster or incidents. It was a patrol of checking on hot spots, stopping the occasional crime of opportunity, and a few moments of offering help. Tim showed up to stop a car jacking only to find out the person was trying to get into their own car. Tim double checked the registration, but then helped them get the lock open.

“Oh my god, you are the best! Thank you, Red Robin.” They thanked him. 

Tim tilted his head, “Red?”

They nodded, “Yeah, I recognize your suit. You came onto the scene like a year ago right? I’ve seen pics on social media. Wait- is that not your name? Are you just the old Robin with a new look?”

“Uh,” Tim shrugged. “Red’s fine.”

“You’re so cool. Hey, do you mind if I take a picture?” They asked.

“Yes, actually. Don’t want facial recognition getting too good of a look.”

“Oh,” Their shoulders slumped. “That’s fair.”

Tim smiled to himself. He remembered back to when he’d been out spending hours in the cold Gotham smog just to get a glimpse of his heroes.

“Wait 40 seconds and then aim your phone at the roof over there.” Tim told them and took off. He got to the opposite roof and timed it so that they’d get a good shot of him grappling away into the night. 

He scanned social media later, after patrol, and found their post. It was a video of a grainy figure jumping off of a roof and swinging away with commentary.

_ “Red Robin is so cool! Dude helped me get my keys out of my locked car. Triple-A could never.” _

Tim thought about the name as he perused other mentions. People in forums and threads had been using ‘Red Robin’ to caption shots and incidents of him with increased frequency since his costume change. Tim knew the official Teen Titans social media still used the name Robin when mentioning him. But the new name was certainly making the rounds.

Tim wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. He was Robin. He’d earned being Robin, and clawed his way back to being Robin again and again. But….but maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to pick up a new persona. He’d already sort of done it by accident it seemed. 

Was he ready to leave Robin behind? Tim thought about it. About the legacy of Robin. Dick had moved on to Nightwing on his own timeline. Bruce had given Robin to Jason without consulting Dick, which had led to tension. Jason had obviously never gotten a choice in the matter of his legacy. If the nickname ‘replacement’ was any indicator, he was still resentful over that detail.

Maybe….maybe Tim could be the first Robin to hand the title over. To purposefully pass it on.

Tim approached Damian a few days later. Damian was just back from taking Titus for a walk around the grounds. Tim smiled as he watched Damian diligently wipe Titus’ paws down in the foyer. 

“Stay,” Damian commanded as he made the corresponding hand gesture. He put away Titus’ leash and the paw towel. “Okay. Good job,” Damian gave Titus a treat and a few scratches behind his ears. “Good boy.”

“Does he know how to roll over yet?” Tim asked as he approached.

Damian scoffed, “I’m only teaching him  _ useful _ commands.”

Tim sighed, “Right. Of course. How silly of me.”

Damian pouted. “What do you want?”

Tim shrugged, “I wanted to ask you about something. Dick said you’ve been doing really well at training. And Alfred’s given you, what, two more weeks on restricted activity? Until you’re in the clear.”

“Only one week.” Damian corrected him.

Tim nodded. “So you’ll be wanting to join patrols soon, right?”

“Obviously.” Damian narrowed his eyes.

“Have you given any thought to your code name and alias?” Tim asked.

Damian scrunched up his nose. “Grayson has been suggesting ridiculous names for weeks. He’s yet to provide one of proper clout.”

Tim smiled. Dick didn’t have the best track record of naming things. Aside from just adding ‘ _ bat-’ _ in front of a word.

“How about Robin?”

Damian blinked at that. He scrutinized Tim closely. “If you are trying to bait me into a fight-”

“I’m not,” Tim hurried to explain. “I’m honestly asking. I wouldn’t mind keeping it if you don’t want it. But I figured I should ask.”

Damian took a second to think. He frowned at Tim. “I would change the uniform.”

Tim laughed, “That’s fair. I’ve changed it enough times.”

Damian looked away from Tim, petting Titus. “Why are you even offering it to me?”

Tim shrugged. “I’ve been thinking about it. Moving on from the title. And about you joining us on patrol. I think you’d make a good Robin. It’s- Robin is about hope. A light to balance out Batman’s darkness. But it’s also helped me balance out my own darkness. Maybe it could be that for you.”

Damian still seemed unsure.

“Hey, do you know where the name comes from?” Tim asked.

Damian shook his head. “I assumed it was in reference to the red on the chest of the uniform.”

“Not really,” Tim smiled, “It was Dick’s nickname. His mom used to call him her spring robin. Even before he was performing with the Flying Graysons. It might have another meaning, too. You should ask him.”

Damian sneered. “I will  _ not _ . I know enough to know that asking about his deceased parents makes him sad. If you are trying to-”

“Damian.” Tim interrupted, “I’m not trying to trick you into anything. Dick likes talking about his parents when it’s about something other than their deaths. And I thought, I don’t know, maybe he’d really like getting to call you Robin like his mom called him. Since he’s your parent now.”

Damian just glared at him. 

Tim sighed and backed up. “Look, take some time to think about it. The offer’s there if you want it.”

Damian stopped him a few days later as they passed in the hallway. He had his sketchbook and showed Tim a few of the ideas he had for the new uniform.

“I don’t want to copy anything you’ve done before.” Damian said hauntingly. 

Tim smirked, but decided not to get into it. 

“I like the look of the hood.”


	53. Conscious Decisions(Therapy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Content warning: Therapy, discussions of abuse, triggers, panic, boundaries, and manipulation

Dinah asked him about the name change at their next meeting.

“So, what inspired Red Robin?”

“Internet forums mostly.” Tim shrugged, “When I changed my costume’s color scheme, it seems like a lot of people assumed I was a new player. Not just Robin in a new suit. And, I mean, thinking back on it, I definitely felt like a different person. Different from before. So, I don’t know, once I heard it, once someone called me Red Robin, it kinda stuck with me. I like it.”

“I’m glad.” Dinah smiled. “And I’ve heard you passed down the Robin title.”

“Yeah.” Tim shrugged, “It felt like the right thing to do. I mean, half of my call sign is still Robin. So it’s not like I’ve moved on completely. But I thought that Damian would be a good next fit. He kind of reminds me of my younger self sometimes. Like when he doesn’t know how to deal with social interactions. It’s for completely different reasons….so maybe I’m just projecting.”

“I don’t know about that.” Dinah said simply, “You just stated you know your motivations are different. That sounds less like projecting and more like _empathizing._ There’s more than one way to be traumatized. But recognizing similar trauma responses and finding common ground in them is a good way to build support. For example, you don’t need to share the same triggers to know what a panic attack feels like and how to help someone through it.”

Tim nodded. That made an amount of sense.

Dinah waited a moment before prompting him.

“I’ve also heard that Robin is on a short track to be added to the Titans' roster.”

“Yeah,” Tim nodded, “I think once he’s got a few months of patrolling Gotham under his belt it’d be a good addition. Like I said, he’s not great at socializing. And at least with the Titans he’d be around people who more-or-less know his actual history. So there wouldn’t be that barrier of a cover story. And he’d be around more people closer to his age. At the Manor he’s got me, Cass, and Steph. I’m not saying we’re bad influences, but we’re definitely of a feather. And the whole bat-family is pretty insular. So it’d be good for him to get exposure to other people.”

“Are you _comfortable_ with him joining the team at the Tower?” Dinah asked. “We’ve spoken a bit about how you’re still adjusting to him at the Manor. The Tower is a safe space for you. And it was the place you went to be safe after he attacked you. Have you thought about what it would mean in that respect to have Damian join?”

Tim shrugged. “No place is completely safe. Jason attacked me at the Tower. And other villains have broken in on occasion. So it’s not like it’s some untouchable safe space in my mind.”

“But would this make it even less safe to you? Would this be putting your comfort last in your calculations?” Dinah pressed.

“I’m- that’s not-” Tim took a deep breath. He thought about it for a moment. Thought about what it would feel like to have Damian at the Tower. To try and hang out with his friends there knowing Damian was in the same building. It certainly wasn’t a stress-free scenario.

“...maybe I am putting some things before others.” Tim acknowledged. “But this isn’t me just putting Damian before myself. I don't- is it weird to say this is me putting what _I_ want as first priority?”

“Which ' want'  are you putting first by inviting him to the tower?”

Tim looked down. “...I want him to like me. I want to have an actual sibling relationship with him. I want- I want to have the kind of relationship where we can exist around each other. And maybe even _ like _ to. So maybe this way we could...fake it until we make it?”

Tim looked back up at Dinah. “Is that manipulative? Or, fuck, what is it called...people-pleasing?”

“I wouldn’t call it that.” Dinah explained, “As long as you’re not causing yourself harm at the expense of your actions. Relationships take work. Wanting to put in the work and effort to improve a relationship is not manipulative, it’s maintenance.”

Tim sighed.

“But-” Dinah continued. “I want you to be consciously making these decisions. If you’re making a compromise in the interest of reaching out to Damian, I want it to be a decision you make on purpose. And I want you to keep track of the compromises you’re making. Look for patterns. Are all the compromises about you sacrificing comfort? Are they of the same vein of putting your short-term mental health at risk in exchange for a long-term benefit?”

“And,” Dinah gave him a soft sort of smile. “It’s important to reflect on what the other party is bringing to a relationship. I know it’s a very special circumstance with Damian. He’s been abused and indoctrinated. He’s coming at every relationship with a lot of gaps and handicaps. So expecting him to get everything right and handle everything with perfect grace is unfair. But with that said, it’s not your job to make up for those gaps by ignoring your own boundaries.”

“You’ll do more harm in the long run if you let unhealthy habits form as a matter of short-term convenience.” Dinah cautioned. “Setting clear boundaries and expecting them to be respected will set a strong precedent. Even if he lacks the context for them for now.”

Tim pursed his lips and nodded.

“You should also remember that you’re not in this alone.” Dinah told him. “Wanting a better sibling relationship is between you and him, but you have the wider family relationships to lean on.”

Tim nodded. “So I guess that’s my therapy homework? Making that list of compromises.”

Dinah nodded, “You’ve said yourself that you think better in spreadsheets.”

“It helps,” Tim said, “Having the words on a screen or a piece of paper instead of just floating around my head.”

“I’m glad it works for you.” Dinah grinned.

Tim sighed and rubbed at his face. He took a deep inhale and let it out slowly. Dinah copied his posture and relaxed into her seat more.

“Is there anything else you wanted to discuss? We’ve got some time left.”

Tim shrugged.

“Any good things you’d like to share? We don’t have to keep deep-diving.”

Tim bit his lip. “Well….I have a date tomorrow.”

“Oh?” Dinah smiled.

“Yeah.” Tim could feel himself blushing a little. He could’ve stopped the smile forming on his lips, but he didn’t want to. “Kon’s planned this one, so I don’t know exactly what we’re going to be doing. But he told me to wear good boots, so-” Tim shrugged.

“Good boots?” Dinah laughed, “What do you think that means?”

“I don’t know,” Tim rolled his eyes, “Like is he dragging me to a county fair? Are we going rock climbing? Did he say that to throw me off the scent of where we’re actually going? He would  _ totally _ do that.”

“He would?”

“He 100% would.” Tim shook his head, “He likes to surprise me. But I’m, you know, kind of a detective. So half the time I figure it out without even really trying to. And apparently my fake-being-surprised face needs some work.”

“That’s really sweet of him,” Dinah said, “Putting in the effort to keep up the mystery.”

“He’s the best.” Tim grinned.


End file.
